Harry, Harry, Harry... Louis

Chapter 7

My lips had been kissed hours before my Jeanne's, but the only thing they could remember was Louis' thumb. The way it carefully brushed against my lips. I didn't know Louis was capable of such softness. Yet, there was nothing soft about his touch (rather the effect it had on me). It made me feel all tense, like all the air in my lungs had been sucked out. I wouldn't say it's uncomfortable. The feeling is just... I can't quite explain it.

But it's fucking with me. And I don't like that.

Laying on my bed, I keep brushing my bottom lip with my thumb, as if I wanted to recreate his touch.

I want to understand why amidst all that's happened with Jeanne today, Louis' thumb's the only thing on my mind.

And his hand grabbing my neck. His fingers giving it a light squeeze, as if he had wanted to show the power he had on me. As if he wanted me to understand that I was his puppet, and that he could make me do whatever he wanted me to.

Fuck.

I'm not gonna play your little game Louis.

I move my hand to my neck. My fingers grasp it lightly. I close my eyes and continue squeezing my hand.

Blue. All I can see is blue.

As if I were under a spell, I squeeze my hand harder and harder around my neck, until I can't breathe.

I want to let go but I can't. Something's telling me that I can't.

"Good boy, let me choke you". I hear someone say with a northern British accent.

I shot my eyes open and sit up straight. I frantically look around my room to try and find where the voice came from.

No one's here with me.

It was all in my head. Louis' voice was in my head.

I'm sweaty and out of breath. I don't know how long I had my eyes closed. It seemed all surreal to me.

Why the fuck did I choke myself?

Why did I let Louis get in my head?

It's as if I couldn't escape him anymore.

As my breathing finally slows down and goes back to normal, I start to sense my body again.

Hum.. what?

I can feel my cock twitching in my boxers. I look down and see my erection.

Why am I hard?

It's not like it's a semi. I am fully hard, with precum leaking through my boxers.

I am very confused.

The natural answer to this... body behavior is that it was all just a wet dream. But nothing about that seems normal to me.

I don't know what to do. I feel like I can't touch myself because if I do, Louis is all I'm going to think about.

I can't, but I want to. I need to.

Fuck it.

Slowly, I slide my hand under my boxers and pull out my dick.

"What are you doing Harry?" I whisper to myself.

I wrap my fingers around it and start pumping, up and down. I close my eyes and lean my back against the headboard of my bed.

Blue. All I can fucking see is blue.

I can't do this. I can't think about him while doing... this.

I try and picture myself with Jeanne next to me. I think of her brown eyes, her soft skin, her long hair.

I pick up my pace and grip my dick harder.

Jeanne, Jeanne, Jeanne...

Suddenly, her long hair turns short and messy and her brown eyes are now blue.

Unconsciously, the thumb of my free hand finds my lower lip and brushes it gently. I keep brushing back and fort, as my other hand glides up and down my hard cock.

Louis, Louis, Louis...

It's too hard. I just give in and think about him.

His attitude, his accent, the way he looks at me, the softness of his fingers... Everything about him.

I didn't realise how much I had paid attention to him and his features. Now it was all I could think about. Every single detail about him.

I'm mad. I'm mad that I let him get to me. This frustration makes me accelerate my pace. I keep pumping harder and faster. I'm almost hurting myself. My breath hitches.

I need to get this over with, even though, deep down, I want to make it last.

Blue, thumb, fingers, lips...

"Come for me Harry. Come for Louis. S'il-te-plait."

That's all it takes for me to come all over my stomach.

I'm exhausted and sticky. I lay there for a moment, still in my orgasm haze.

I pick up the shirt lying on the ground and rub my come off me. I should go take a shower and wash it off properly, but I'm too tired.

My body is dead but my mind is going wild.

I feel so... guilty. I should've thought about Jeanne. I should've thought about anyone else really, except him.

I don't understand. I thought I knew everything about myself.

I grab my journal on my nightstand and open it to the page where I had written this morning.

I know nothing.

You know nothing Harry.

How are we feeling? Are you guys happy with my story so far?

Sorry for the wait!! I had a lot of school stuff to do this week:/