Hands to Myself

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8th December, Brazil

Harry had done some complicated hand signal towards Graham and Tony and within minutes we were bundled into the back of a blacked out SUV. They had this down to a tee, getting Harry in and out of places, but tonight their wasn't much need. There was no one waiting for him when we exited the club. Graham and Tony, bless their hearts, turned the radio up as loud as it would go and left their eyes straight on the road. Somewhere in the back of mind I wondered how often they had done this for him but I didn't allow myself to dwell on it.
Meanwhile, us two in the back of the car where acting like teenagers on their first outing. Making out hungrily, hands clawing at whatever body parts we could get to. Harry's one hand was pressed firmly against the inside of my upper thigh. His fingers prodding there, the pressure alternating between soft and strong. I let my hands wander down his chest, pressing hard into him and feeling just how strong he was now. How taught his stomach muscles where, marvelling at how last time I did this he felt very different. I kissed him eagerly as my hands wandered beneath the fabric of his top, letting my hand transverse his firm stomach and land somewhere just north of his waistband. I let my fingers slip between the fabric and his skin and he flinched.

Then came the moment. The moment when a woman reaches into her man's pants and is clueless to what she will find. Silently sending up a prayer to the penis spirits that she will be pleasantly surprised. I took a few seconds letting my fingers dance at the top of his pants, letting the anxiety die off. I knew there was no turning back from this point. I didn't have the brain function to really comprehend what that meant in the moment. A second of holding my breath and extending my hand, and then a sigh of relief at the way Harry filled up my palm. I know, I know, I've seen it before. But that was a very long time ago, and quite a few dicks ago, memories fade.

I took my time feeling it out, straight and thick and watched as Harry tipped his head back against the car seat. His hand played in my hair, gently. It took everything in me not to pull it out and take it in my mouth right there in the back seat of the car. The feel of him growing in my palm was a satisfying one. I stopped before Graham and Tony got a full show, but mostly because I was reminded we were back at the hotel by the way the fluorescent lights from the car park flooded into the car.

The car was put into park and the two men exited the front of the car. Harry just sat, staring at me, his semi-erection holding all my attention. His green eyes were dark, luring me in. The only sound was our ragged breathing. In all honesty I think he was giving me a chance to back out.

"You good?" I repeated his words from earlier, reaching to grab his hand and trying to pull him along as I started moving out of the car. The sound of words back in the air seemed to spur him into action. He was out his door and round my side of the car before I could even grab my handbag. Graham and Tony were very kindly holding an elevator door for us. As I walked in, I noticed only Harrys floor was pressed. Well they were not soft where they?
We stayed sensible in the lift, standing half a foot away from each other, not speaking. Without even a word being shared. we both knew there would be cctv in there. The pair of us tense, bodies rammed straight up. You know when you are so turned on your body can barely handle it? That's how we felt right now.

Once we were inside the suite, all bets where off. Before the door was even fully closed, my back was rammed straight into it. Not entirely gently either. It left a soft ache throughout my muscles. His mouth was on mine in an instant. Without even thinking, I used his shoulder to lift myself onto him, my legs wrapping around his waist and squeezing with my thighs as much as I could.

"God, I love this mouth" he murmured at me, running a thumb achingly slow across my bottom lip before he moved his mouth down my throat, across my collar bone. As my head rested back against the door to give him more room, he stopped to hook a finger beneath the spaghetti strap of my dress. He held it there for just a moment before running his fingers down over my breastbone and dipping inside the material, teasingly slow. He looked up to me, as if the check this was ok before pushing the material down and lowering his head. My breath caught, his tongue flicked on my nipple. Fuck, that felt good. It stood to attention immediately. My fingers entwined with his hair once again as he pushed the material all the way down and moved to the other nipple. The decision not to wear a bra tonight had come in handy. The groan that escaped my mouth didn't sound human and with it, Harry decided to move us to the bed. My legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, I managed to pull my dress over my head and leave it discarded somewhere on the floor. I was left just in my one really good pair of knickers. The only pair I did, and would ever own from La Perla. A sheer blue lace, with high cut sides. I hadn't had much reason to buy sexy lingerie the past few years. After years of being in a comfortable relationship, it had turned into plain ASDA cottons.

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