writing things

You take a deep breath. There’s nothing quite like the anticipation building up inside you now, shooting through your veins, buzzing under your skin. Your reflection in the mirror hides the excitement bubbling just beneath the surface - or it would, if it weren’t for the wide grin you can’t conceal.

You shake your head. You need to stop. Be serious. Look like you’re in charge.

In truth, you love the nights like these. Once a fortnight or so, you and Harry would take a night to yourselves. Usually it started with a date; something classic, like an expensive dinner or a stroll through the city under the starlight. Then, you’d come home and have sex. You did this almost every other night too, but there was one large difference: on these nights, you were in charge.

You brush down the fabric covering your skin and admire yourself in the mirror. The set had arrived this morning and you love it. Harry hasn’t seen it yet, but you know he’ll love it too. It screams sexy and dominant. He had previously mentioned how nice it would be to see you in a corset. You’d bought this one in secret. It’s black with crimson embroidery, paired with matching panties and thigh-high stockings.

You pick up the harness sitting by the sink and hold it against your hips. The black straps blend seamlessly into the lingerie. When you’d first bought the strap-on, it had come with two removable dildos. The first one you’d used on Harry had been bright pink, embedded with silver glitter, and had been narrow enough for a beginner. Since then, you’d worked up to the second dildo, a much thicker and longer toy. This one is the same red as your lingerie, embedded with large gold flecks. You can’t wait to try it on, but you refrain from fastening the harness around your waist. There are games to be played first.

You take another deep breath. Your heart beats loudly in your chest. You can feel it in your throat, accompanied by the flutter of your stomach. There’s no anxiety here; it’s all excitement.

You step out of the ensuite and into the bedroom. Harry’s sitting on the bed, waiting for you. He focuses on the harness immediately, and then his gaze drifts to your hips, following the line of your corset up until he pauses at your chest. He licks his lips. Warmth spreads across your skin, raising gooseflesh on your exposed arms.

“You like it?” you ask, sauntering across the room. You toss the harness onto the bed beside him. His eyes follow it. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I like it.” His voice is low and hoarse. You can see the effect you’re having on him; he’s wearing only briefs, tented at the front. “Did you buy that just for me?”

“Only for you.”

You straddle him, sitting on his lap to kiss him. His hair is soft and you wrap it around your fingers, tilting his head back to kiss down the column of his throat. You grind against him, feeling your panties dampen. He twitches beneath you, raising his hips as you pull away.

“Uh-uh,” you murmur. “We’re playing by my rules tonight.”

He shivers delicately. You push him back until he’s lying on the bed, then kiss down his chest to the waistband of his underwear. He watches you, eyes darkened with lust, pleading as you straighten and step away from the bed. He reaches for you, but you knock his hand away.

You hook one finger through the top of your panties, teasing him with a glimpse of the soft skin beneath. Slowly, you lower the panties and step out of them, one foot at a time, until you stand before him in only the corset and stockings. You climb over him again, higher this time, sitting on his torso just above the leaves tattooed on his hips.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” you ask, pressing a kiss to his lips. He nods, pressing his forehead to his. “You want me to pin you down and fuck you until you cry?”

He groans. “Please.”

“Beg.”

A whine finds its way from between his clenched teeth. “I want you to fuck me until I cry. Please, please, fuck me hard.”

One hand trails up your leg. His thumb, rough from playing the guitar, presses against your clit. It feels good, blissful, and as he rubs small circles you start to lose yourself. Clenching your teeth, you pull his hand away.

“You want me to fuck you? You’ve got to behave first.” You pin his hand to the bed beside his head. “And I think I should cum first, don’t you? It’s only fair.”

He moans. You lean down and bite his earlobe gently, tugging on it.

“If you want to breathe,” you whisper in his ear, “you’d better work fast.”

You crawl up him, hovering over his face. He grins briefly at you and it’s all the confirmation you need. As you lower yourself onto his face, his arms hook around your thighs, hands holding onto your hips. His tongue probes you, warm and wet, and you moan, rocking softly against his lips. Harry has two secret talents, one public and one private: juggling, and this.

It doesn’t take long. He knows you, knows how to turn you on and bring you right to the edge and over. You press down against him as you cum, mumbling nonsense words. When you can think clearly again, you slowly lift yourself off him, climbing off the bed. He stays where he is, breathless.

“Get into position, Princess,” you order, reaching for the harness.

It’s easy to put on: two loops that fasten tightly around your thighs and a clasp in the front. You slide the dildo into place and secure it. In the time it takes you to secure everything, Harry’s also ready. He’s taken his briefs off, and now kneels on the floor by the bed, wrists resting together on his lap. You sit on the edge of the bed, stroking the dildo.

“Want to suck my dick?” you ask. “Get it nice and wet for me.”

He sits up, shuffling between your legs. The dildo stretches his full, pink lips, disappearing into his mouth. Despite the lack of sensation, the image still turns you on, completely obscene. You let him adjust, taking more and more into his mouth, gagging a little around the silicone. Your fingers wind through his hair, pushing him a little further.

“Stay still,” you murmur. “Keep your mouth open.”

You buck your hips up. Harry chokes, wobbles on his knees, and then holds onto your thighs to keep himself steady. You draw back until the tip emerges from between his lips, but he nods.

“Do it again,” he says. “I’m ready.”

You stand, holding his head steady. Slowly at first, you slide your dick between his lips, again and again until you feel confident enough to get a little faster. Harry looks up at you with wide, green eyes, encouraging you to go harder. You fuck his face and he slides his hands around your waist, large, warm fingers splayed against your cheeks. You pull his hair and he winces.

When you pull away, he doubles over, gasping. You pet his hair, sitting back on the bed, and he looks up at you, award-winning smile plastered across his face.

“I like it when you’re rough,” he says, resting his cheek against your leg.

“Oh, so that’s what you want, is it?” you ask, grinning back at him. You already know what he wants; the two of you had spent all morning discussing it in anticipation. Your fingers weave through his hair again, pulling him up. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I want you to fuck me,” he says.

“How?”

“Hard.”

“Details, Princess.”

He swallows. When he speaks, his voice is no louder than a whisper. “I want you to tie me down and fuck me hard, so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Tie you down with what?”

“Handcuffs. In the drawer.”

“Get on the bed, then.”

You swap positions. Harry climbs onto the bed and you stand, opening the drawer in the nightstand. It’s filled with random bits and pieces; there are bent bookmarks, a notepad on which Harry has scrawled the remnants of a dream he had recently, a few pens missing their caps, three odd socks. You reach into the back, searching for fluff. The handcuffs are wrapped around the bottle of lubricant. They’re metal underneath, lined with crimson fur for comfort.

Harry’s lying on his front, knees tucked beneath him, arms stretched out above his head. Child’s pose, with his head turned to the side, cheeks pressed against the rumpled sheets. You lean over him, clicking the soft fur of the handcuffs closed around his wrists.

“Comfortable?” you ask.

“Tighter.”

You oblige him, tightening the cuffs until there’s barely any space between the fur-lined metal and his wrists. He shifts, pulling against the cuffs, and then nods. You crawl onto the bed behind him, kneeling between his feet and running your hands over the smooth skin of his ass. You part his cheeks and squeeze lube over his puckered hole. He shivers.

You pour some lube onto your dick, still slick with his spit. You stroke over his hole, circling it with your index finger before pushing all the way in. He moans, pushing back against you. He’s loose, having prepared earlier for this, and you quickly work your way up to three fingers.

“So you like it rough, huh, Princess?” you ask, removing your fingers. You watch his hole flutter around nothing. “You want me to fuck you into the mattress?”

“Yes,” he murmurs.

You flatten your tongue against his hole and he rocks forward, gasping. Laughing, you slide off the bed and pick up your discarded panties from the floor. You take your position behind him again and press the head of your dick against his hole. Slowly, you slide into him, watching the muscles in his back tighten as you sink deeper into him. You ball up your panties in your hand.

“Tell me how much you love my dick,” you order.

“I love it,” he gasps. “I love how big it is and how much it burns, and I love feeling it fuck my arse.”

Your hips bump against his. You lean over him, pushing your dick deeper into him, and reach for his stubbled chin. Tilting his head up, you press your balled-up panties into his mouth, stretching his jaw. He mumbles something in protest but you push his head back down to the mattress.

“No more talking,” you tell him, kissing down his arched spine.

Your hands find his hips, fingers fitting perfectly into his curves. Using his hips as leverage, you draw out and bump your hips back against his. He moans, clutching the bedsheets, rocking his hips back. You smile and run a hand down his back. He asked for rough, after all, and your strokes speed up, becoming longer and more fluid, until Harry’s keening against the sheets. You’ve improved since the first time you did this, when the strokes were stilted and slow.

You reach around and find Harry’s cock bouncing against his stomach. It’s red and swollen, leaking precum. He won’t last long. You curl your hand around him and he bucks into your grip. It’s a little difficult to find the rhythm to keep fucking into him and stroke his cock at the same time, but you manage it. His toes curl against the sheets.

You lean over him and kiss his back, coated in a thin layer of sweat. “Cum for me, Princess.”

He groans and mumbles something, muffled through your panties. His cock twitches in your hand, and then he’s cumming on his stomach. Part of it clips your fingers; you absently bring your finger to your lips and lick it off. You fuck him through his orgasm, slower now, until he shudders, pressing his face into the mattress.

You pull out, gently rolling him over onto his back. He lies on the sheets, listless, and you unclip the harness before lying down beside him. You kick off the harness, leaving it at the bottom of the bed, and tease your soaked panties from between his lips. He coughs.

“M‘mouth’s dry,” he murmurs.

You kiss him gently. In the nightstand drawer, you find the key for the handcuffs and free him. He curls up on your chest, drawing a finger down your corset.

“I like it,” he says, tucking his head under your chin. “You should wear it more often.”

You pet his hair and kiss the top of his head. “Was I too rough?”

“No, I loved it.” He takes your hand and plays with your fingers. “I’d do it every night, if I never wanted to be able to sit down again.”

You snort and he grins up at you, rubbing his lips with his long fingers. He wraps an arm around your waist and settles down. You wrench the sheets free from beneath both of your tired, sweaty bodies and pull it up around the two of you, tucking Harry in. He sighs softly against your throat and his breathing slows. An ache begins to set into your hips, and you turn your head until his hair tickles your nose. You’ll both be sore in the morning, but in the meantime it was worth it.