GREEN (RL Harry Styles fanfic)

20. Clouded

"Fuck! Piece of shit," I cursed at my sewing machine as another needle broke. It was actually a really nice machine, but I was frustrated with it at the moment. Well, actually I was just frustrated.

I had always been a sexual person. It had actually caused problems in some of my past relationships. I had wanted more sex than a number of my boyfriends. Sometimes that hurt their masculinity, so they broke it off. Other times I ended it because I was unsatisfied. It's not that sex was the only thing I cared about in a relationship; it was just that a good sexual match was important to me. It carried the same weight as a bad personality or someone who didn't like music. Seriously, I was convinced people who didn't listen to music were soulless.

My sexual awakening happened early on in my adolescence. I was a rebellious kid, but still with a good head on my shoulders. I just learned early on that being myself was much easier than trying to be someone else. I was comfortable in my own skin, and with my body. I discovered what I liked in regards to pleasure, on my own; so by the time I had a partner, I was vocal about my needs. I was certainly never the type of girl to fake enjoyment for a man's ego. Sex was about pleasing each other and trusting someone else to listen to you and your body. It was vulnerable, real, and like nothing else. I valued it, and despite my desires, I wouldn't consider myself promiscuous. I had had maybe 6 partners in my 31 years on earth. I could handle a dry spell well enough on my own.

Needless to say, the way Harry and I had cut things short this morning was getting to me. I was on edge and every little thing was pissing me off. I couldn't even get work done on my collection because my mind was too clouded with dirty thoughts. I needed to release the tension; but while normally a quick rub out would do, I knew my aching was directly in need of Harry's soothing.

Resolving that work was pointless and getting pissy again, this time at Harry for leaving me in this state, I decided I'd make him suffer just as much as I was. I retreated back to bed, still in my tee shirt and panties I had slept in. Lying back against the pillows, I pulled out my phone and opened the text field, typing my message to Harry.

Do you have any idea how hot it was watching you shower this morning?

I sent the message and watched as the status changed from delivered to read. I waited a bit longer but Harry didn't attempt to respond. Not one to back down easily, and figuring he was ignoring me because of his meeting, I typed another message.

It took everything in me not to touch myself while you were in there. Would that make you mad baby?

I decided to fire all my ammo at once and really go for it. I sent off another message directly after.

Would you be mad that I made myself come and shake around my own hand instead of you? Would you stroke yourself in the shower as you watched me?

Almost immediately after my message delivered I saw the bubbles indicating Harry was typing appear on the screen. I smirked at my wicked game and tried to imagine Harry sat in a cafe somewhere trying to play it cool as he read my texts. I watched as a cloud of text popped up on my screen.

Holy shit babe! I was not expecting that. I'm still in my meeting.

I was pleased with his response, but not satisfied that he didn't play back. Deciding that he needed to suffer just as much as I was, I wrote back.

Tell me Harry, you wouldn't be mad would you? You would love to watch me make myself come. I bet the thought is making you hard right now.

I was beginning to regret my plan because I was merely working myself up even more. A couple moments after I sent my latest text I saw he had read the message. I waited as he typed a reply.