Straight after graduation I settled down in America. I decided that the magical world is not a place that I would want to settle down in. After reaching America, I realize that there is no way I can further my studies with the certificate that I get from Hogwarts and I could find no meaningful jobs. Money was something that I didn't have to worry about though, my parents left me with plenty to spare. I rented an awesome apartment overlooking the sea and had decided to bum out my life, or at least get back the childhood that I didn't really get. I was going to indulge myself in all things fun and enjoyable. And I did, for a while. I dated causally and went in search of good food and great places. Life was good but I became bored so I began a search for my talent, something that I could be good at and could work hard at. I tried the piano, the violin, the guitar and the drums simultaneously. I got bored very quickly. Then I moved on to the arts. Drawing, painting and sculpting didn't work too well for me either. Finally I stumbled upon literature. I started writing short stories. I would spend all day and all night putting my imagination onto paper. The stories got longer and longer and before I know it, they became novels. I never got bored for the possibilities are endless! I could control how the story would turn out, fake mysterious deaths for people that I dislike, skip over situations that I hate and most importantly, construct the reality that I could not have.
One day when Hermione and Ron brought their kids over for a visit, she discovered my writings.
"You should really bring this to a publisher, Harry! They are awesome!" she exclaimed.
"Nah. It is just a hobby," I said.
"If you are not going to do it, I will," she said.
Next thing I know, some publisher guy called me up and ask if they could get my permission to put my book into printing. I decided that I would just go with the flow. My book was a hit! Then more offers came for me to continue. Bestseller after bestseller after bestseller, my popularity steadily grew but I diligently stayed out of the limelight. Only a selected few know of my new occupation. I made absolutely sure that no one would link my pen name, Henry Procter, to me. The last thing I wanted was to get famous. Right now, a production company wants to make my first book into a movie and I am currently on my way to meet the cast that they have picked out. I have offered myself up to write the script for the movie since I wanted to venture into something new. They told me that they are getting a really famous model to play the lead role. I seriously wonder if models can act. They catwalk and pose with so little expression, it really makes people doubt their acting skills.
I got out of my cab and pass through those generic, lavish double doors of a large office building. Security desk to one side, no one smiling and everyone walks with their nose glued to their blackberries. I enter the shiny lift lobby where light music is playing softly in the background. A small 'ping' sound announces the arrival of the lift. 42 floors is a long ride. I turn to look at the mirror at the back of the lift. Why is there a mirror? Is it for the self conscious to check their appearances? Is it to trick the claustrophobic into thinking that the enclose space is not that small and scary afterall? Does looking at oneself effectively kill time? Several other questions entered my thoughts too but my floor has arrived. I walk towards a reception desk and the receptionist gives me a once over. She didn't greet me; just ask if she could help me. I said I was here to look for my editor. She asks if I had an appointment. I say that I probably do. She asks for my name and I say "Henry". She makes a call and confirms my appointment then gestures for me to sit in a corner to wait for my editor to come fetch me. I obediently sit in my designated corner. Large comfortable chair; glossy magazine placed perfectly in the center of the side table to my right, title reads "10 ways to lose belly fats". A 'ping' sound chimes and I turn my head to the lift. In walks a man in a somber suit, briefcase in one hand, blackberry in another. His presence shouts "Importance!". The receptionist stands to greet him as he passes by and he gives an absentminded acknowledgement. I look down at my black V-neck cashmere sweater, jeans and sneakers. I wonder if she would stand up for me too if I had a briefcase and blackberry.
My editor enters all chirpy and reaches for my hand before I even have time to fully stand up. I notice the receptionist making a move to stand but my editor was walking too fast so she didn't bother to go through with the motion. My editor has on a suit too. Maybe it is the suit and not the accessories the garners respect. I make a mental note to get a suit. I got hustled past the receptionist into the open concept office area. Phones are ringing and people are working. Feels all fast pace and business-like. I imagine this is at a bigger scale. Then bigger and bigger, but the only thing I could focus on is how many of those grey cubicles they need to hold all the office workers. This is the corporate world all compartmentalized into cubby holes. Everyone has their personal space. Personal space. That got me thinking about riding the train in the peak hours. There's absolutely no space that can be called personal. I realize that peak hours are when these workers rush to work. So they leave their house every morning to get squashed on trains to come to their grey cubicles to work every single day. Wow, tough life. I wonder if I could manage that. My editor holds the door open for me and I walk into the small meeting room. He tells me to take a seat while he goes to bring me something to drink and leaves the room. I wonder why my editor didn't talk to me this whole time. The walk from the reception area to the meeting rooms at the back took a while. Most people would ramble about their company right? Perhaps I was staring too hard at the workers and didn't pay attention to him so he didn't bother. I choose the seat beside the one at the top of the table. In walks my editor with two mugs. I smile as I take the one that is extended to me. We sit in silence opposite each other for a while. I wonder who would be embarrassed first and start the small talk. He may be my editor, but this is only the second time that I have seen him. Normally their courier service people would pick up my manuscript from me and I never found the need to visit their office until now. He starts to fidget a little bit. The door opens again to reveal the receptionist, another man in a suit and Draco. My editor looks evidently relieve at the turn of events stands to greet the man in a suit and Draco who has his nose glued to his blackberry. Draco is dressed casually like I am, T-shirt and slacks, though he looks significantly more elegant than I am. Draco spots me and walks forward.
"Harry! Wow! How long has it been?" He looks positively delighted to see me. The two other men in the room look on silently. I stand to take Draco's outstretched hand.
"About 8 or 9 years," I say. At a point in time I had strong feelings about the boy. Great displeasure. But the boy is now a man and those feelings are too far back in the past for me to connect to them.
"Man, you have grown stoic. Did the society treat you badly?" he asks.
"I am just sleep-deprived, I suppose," I explain.
"Well, good to see you again. We should get coffee after this or something." He takes a seat next to me.
It is strange how his attitude towards me has changed so much. But then again, my attitude towards him as changed too. Ten years ago, we would have whipped out our wands and call on an impromptu duel. I guess we have both put the past behind us. The other two men took their seats too. Then more people enter the room, actors and managers. The meeting begins. I am introduced then they are introduced one by one. The speaker drones about the storyline. It is roughly about a mysterious murder case that happened a long time ago but new evidence were recently found and so a detective was called upon to investigate the case which he later on discovers that it is linked to a whole array of seemly random people. Draco plays the detective and the rest of the people would play the "seemingly random people". More droning and the meeting end. Everyone is invited into the pantry for refreshments. Everyone starts to file out of the room. I tell my editor that I am going on home to catch up on some sleep and left. Only after exiting those lavish double doors did I realize that I am hungry. I try to recall the last time I ate. Was it yesterday afternoon or evening? Either way, a meal is long overdue; it is already 4 in the afternoon. Did I really burn all morning and afternoon in that room? What did they talk about? I walk along the street. So many more office buildings with levels and levels of open concept offices and grey cubicles stuffed with people.
The compartmentalized corporate world.
I spot a café across the street and decide that it is good enough.
Back at home, food in my stomach and fresh from a shower, I feel that I am ready for my well deserved rest. I lie on my bed, close my eyes and am dead to the world.
I reach for my clock on my bedside and crack my eyes open to sneak a peek. It is already 2 in the afternoon. How long was I asleep for? 19 hours. Somehow I do not feel rested. Should I go back to sleep? I close my eyes and then I hear some clattering. I spring from my bed and walk out of my room. I smell food and I hear whistling. Into the kitchen I go and I see Draco, pan in hand and my dining table has been set out for two.
"Good afternoon sleepy head! You sure can sleep! I waited for four whole hours, you know that?" Draco pours the contents of the pan into a dish on the table. The set up looks about complete. My brain is foggy and could not really comprehend why Draco is in my apartment. Neither could I correlate a strange presence in my house with a violation of privacy.
"I don't own so many plates," I say.
"I got hungry while waiting and suddenly have this urge to cook. So I look through you kitchen and found no food at all! How can you live like this?"
"I call take out."
"Anyway, I went out to buy the ingredients and the relevant tools. I realize you only have one set of utensils so I got you more. What are you going to do when you have guests over?"
"I will call take out," I say. My brain remains foggy.
"Go clean up then come and eat something."
I go into my bathroom and splash water on my face. I brush my teeth, comb my hair and put on a T-shirt and pants (I sleep in my boxers). Then it hit me. Draco is in my apartment. That is no normal! I walk back to my kitchen where he is already digging into the food. I take a seat on the opposite end of the table. I just sit there staring at him, making no move to start eating.
"Eat up. I guarantee it is good. I take pride in my cooking."
"You are here," I state.
"Indeed I am." Such cheerfulness so early in my day, it is sort of getting on my nerves.
"And you cooked."
"Yes I did."
"Because I got hungry and had the urge to cook." At this point, he has stopped eating.
"I meant why you are here."
"To see you, of course."
"You can cook?"
"Of course I can! Who do you think I am? A prince who never has to do any housework?"
"You think I am a prince? Aww… I'm touched but trust me; I am just a pretty face. I still have to do my share of chores."
"No, I was referring to the 'never has to do any housework part'."
"Well, whatever it is. Eat first. I am starving!"
And so we ate. He rambles on about his life after graduation. Mother gone missing, relatives got rounded up by the Ministry. He took his inheritance, came here, bum around, got spotted by his modeling agency, and propelled to stardom.
"So, tell me about yourself. How did you end up an author?"
"Oh, you know, by writing."
"Are you trying to be difficult? Here I am, trying to befriend you again and even cooked. Can't you at least try to be civil?"
"You barged into my house and dirtied my kitchen and you are talking about being civil?"
"I called and left a ton of messages on your machine since yesterday. You didn't call me back at all. I thought you are avoiding me so I had to take matters into my own hands."
"I was asleep and even if I really am avoiding you, it totally contradicts that you let yourself into my house. How did you get in?"
"The security let me into the building. Being famous has its perks."
"And my front door?"
"I forgot about that." Mental note: Relearn high level locking spells.
"Well, I guess I shouldn't impose."
"Clean up your mess then go. And take those unnecessary 'tools' with you."
"I live in the agency hostel. We already have enough tableware for 20 or so."
"Do what you want. I'm going to work."
I stand up to go to my study room, leaving him sitting there.
I turn on my computer and stare at the screen as it boots up. What is he doing here? What does he want? I don't get it at all. Whatever it is, I have to concentrate. I had this really good idea when I was dreaming but the harder I think about it, the faster it is slipping away. I need to relax.
When I write, I almost go into a trance. Not knowing at all what is happening around me and what my fingers are typing. Ideas and images come too fast for thought and I just kept going and going, then just like someone shuts off the light, all my train of thoughts would seize and my mind goes blank and I can't write anymore. My trances can last for a few days or a few hours, it really depends on when the light gets shut off. Today, it lasted for 7 hours. I could have rested and coax myself into trance again but I decide to call it a night. Today's materials have induced an itch in me that needs to be scratched soon. I wonder if he is still around. I stretch in my office chair and turn off the computer. A few moments later, all the light in the room dies. I realize I didn't bother turning on the ceiling light at all. Without the buzzing of the processor, I seem to hear the faint sound of television programs. I guess he didn't leave. How should I regard him later? I decide to go with the flow.
He immediately rushes up to me when I exit my study. I could see the imaginary dog ears and tail that has sprouted since this afternoon, said ears standing at attention and tail wagging.
"All done?" He asks.
I walk into the bathroom in my bedroom. I deliberately leave both doors open to see his reaction. Would he enter? He didn't. He obediently stands at the door of my bedroom like the docile puppy he is. I thought he would not have given it much thought and just strut right in but I guess he knows there is a limit, though his seems to be a lot further than others. I shaved and start to style my hair.
"Going out?" He asks.
"Yes." I state simply.
"My usual pub."
"I want to go too."
"Are you gay?"
"Me? Not really."
"Then you better not."
"Are you gay?"
"I am bi."
"Then why is your usual bar a gay bar?"
"Because men are easier to handle than women."
"Then when do you sleep with women?"
"When I feel like it."
I finish with my hair and walk into my room. By the light of the bathroom, I try to coordinate the clothes that I am going to wear tonight. I figure if I squint really hard, I could save the trouble of walking to the switch to flick on the lights.
"Hey, if you are looking for a man, won't I do?"
I stop for a moment and regard him in the dim lighting. All I could see is his silhouette against the light from the corridor. I remember his pretty face that has a hint of royal arrogance and now I take into account his beautiful physique. Not too big and bulgy but not scrawny either.
"Yah, someone like you would be good." I go back to trying to color match in the dark.
"Not someone like me. Me." His voice has lost all the previous chirpiness and is sliding into a serious note.
"You are not really gay but have you slept with a man before?"
"Have you wanted to sleep with a man before?"
"Now I do."
I sigh loudly and give up trying to look for the right clothes. I just grab whatever my hands landed on and close the wardrobe. Throwing the selected clothes on my bed, I strip myself down to my boxers. This time I walk to the switch and flick it on. The glaring lights blind me for a second then I refocus my eyes on him. He is looking at me in all seriousness now.
"You see me?" I ask.
"I am a man. I have no breasts and no vagina. I don't get wet when I am ready. I am not soft and mushy like a woman's body. I have a penis pretty much like yours and it stands up and leaks when I am excited, just like yours. I am feeling like a bottom today, so you have to take the lead, you think you can do it?"
"Judging by my body's reaction now, I am guessing yes."
"I like you."
"You just met me again not long ago, you know. And you suddenly realize that you like me? That is not very convincing."
"Not 'just', it's 'all along'. Since Hogwarts. Since the time I first laid eyes on you. Okay, maybe not the first time because I was still young and didn't know about all these complicated feelings but bottom line is, I've liked you for a long time, Harry."
"You verbally abused me during school and we were fighting against each other!"
"Pulling pigtails, family obligations and we are just on different sides during the war. Now it is all over, so can't we start over too?"
I consider what he said for a moment. I am no longer in touch with the hatred I had for him, that is true. But do I want to give him a chance? No, that is thinking too far. The only things I have to think about is whether I have the energy to go to the pub and pick someone up and whether he is a bad option for tonight. No and no. I guess that's that.
I drop my boxers and kick them aside. Then I pick up the clothes on the bed and chuck them aside too. Standing there naked, I stare him and he stares down, swallowing nervously.
"Do you know how to go about having sex with a man?"
"I have a few ideas."
"Then let's see them being put into action."
He walks into the room tentatively and closes the distance between us. He pulls me into an embrace and I take in the way he smells and the way his body feels against mine. There's almost a tinge of a sense of security, like I have finally reached home. I put that thought into the back of my mind. Too much.
He pulls away to peck me on my cheek, drawing closer and closer to my mouth with every feathery kiss. He's holding me gently and carefully, caressing my arm with small touches as he kisses me. I slip him the tongue and takes control. He lets me. I shove him away.
"What are you doing?" I am almost furious that he is treating me like a woman.
"I'm not a woman. And if this the as much desire as you can muster after liking me for so long, then I think tonight is when it should end."
"I just want to cherish you a little, treat you with love."
"Whatever, get out. I am going to the pub."
I walk to the pile of clothes that I threw aside from before and start to dress. I realize the socks don't match and I furrow my brows. He walks to me and hugs me from behind.
"I'm a man. I don't break easily. I expect more from my sex partners than just loving caresses. You understand?"
I drop the clothes in my hands and turn around to look at him. He's tall, almost six inches taller. His lips come crashing down on mine in a hungry kiss. So needy, sloppy and full of impatience that I could moan. But no, I am not going to get swept off my feet so early in the game. We walk awkwardly towards the bed where I sit at the edge of. I push him away slightly and spread my legs slightly wider than necessary. The message is clear and he understands. He kneels in front of me and brings one hand towards my groin.
"Off with the clothes first."
He takes off his clothes and I admire his well toned torso. He holds my limb penis in his hand and strokes it. I watch him struggle with himself.
"Can't do it after all?"
"Do I get it up before putting it in my mouth or can I put it in now?"
He seriously looks like he is putting in a lot of effort into this. It is kind of cute.
"Do what you want, it doesn't matter."
He brings himself closer and licks the tip. My member gives a jolt and swells up a notch. He seems pleased. Starting to gain more experience, he begins to seem surer in his actions. He would lick more liberally and not just lap at it, sneaking kisses and sucks in between. All over, I feel his warm tongue and bad techniques. Didn't matter. Watching him trying so hard and still being so lousy is kind of cute. I must really mean a lot to him for him to be on his knees and sucking me now. This feels slightly different than when I'm with a random stranger. I could feel more than usual and respond better. My breathing starts to become labored and strangled moans are escaping through my closed mouth.
"Put me into your mouth. I want to feel your warmth." I command.
He stares up at me through his long lashes and takes my head in.
He slides down on my shaft further. He presses his warm tongue against me. Inch by inch, he swallows more of me until I feel the back of his throat then I think it triggered his gag reflex because he immediate pulls back and starts to cough.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes in between coughs.
"It's fine. Carry on."
He takes me in again when he stopped coughing and this time he didn't dare to take it in so far back into his throat. Bobbing up and down, he angles his head from side to side to provide variation. He probably picked it up from the way a girl would blow him. Using his tongue only sparingly, he feels unsure of how to work it. The movement in his tongue is awkward and at times, he sucks on me too hard and I hiss. This is not going well.
"Stop," I say.
"I'm sorry I'm no good but teach me, I promise I will do it the way you want it."
"I intend to. Get on the bed."
He climbs on the bed and sits in the middle of it.
"Lie down and part your legs."
He did as told. I got into the 69 position on top of him, coming face to face with his semi hard-on. He looks huge.
"Do as I do."
I take him in and so does he. I slide half his shaft into my mouth and swirl my tongue. He swells up considerably. He quickly releases me from his oral cavity.
"Ahh…No…" he moans.
I release him too.
"Your mouth is getting lazy, Draco."
He takes me back in and so did I. I begin my work on his member in slower movements so he can catch on. Applying the proper techniques, I can feel him moan around my penis and trying hard to service me in between it. Slowly but steadily, I can feel myself getting hot. He is doing better now.
I don't know how big he is, though it is not showing any sign of stopping in growth. By the time it did, I can only put one third of it into my mouth before hitting the back of my throat. I pull him out and look at it, all 12 inches of it! Impressive instrument. I think I myself grew a little bigger too, thinking about having this fine specimen of a penis thrust into me. I hold it in my hand and feel it pulsating.
"I will stretch myself. You probably can't do it yet."
"No, let me do it for you. Please."
I lie myself on the bed and he climbs on top of me. He takes a moment to look at me, penis slightly wet with precum and painfully swollen.
"Your nipples are so red, like hard candy," he comments.
He licks it hard then latches on it like a hungry child while fingering the other with his thumb. I take his hand off my nipple and put two fingers into my mouth. He watches me as I suck, lick and coat them liberally with my saliva. I pull them out slowly and a drop of saliva drips onto my chest. He picks it up with his tongue.
"One finger at a time. Look for my good spot."
It is weird at first because he is concentrating so hard on looking for it that he stopped doing anything else. This is the worse sex I have ever had but it is sort of adorable and amusing at the same time. My body gives a jolt suddenly and I gasp.
I grip the bed sheets in my hands tightly as he fingers me with enthusiasm. Moaning, withering, trembling, I could hardly help myself.
His finger nudges at my opening and slowly, he pushes it pass the ring of muscle. I gasp loudly. My knuckles are turning white from gripping the sheets too hard. I can feel my own nails through cloth.
He immediately stops and I slowly come down from my high. Breathing heavily, my eyes regain their focus and I tilt my head up to look at him. There's a hint of amusement in his expression.
"What?" I question.
"Nothing," he answers.
He lies down and I climb on top of him. I push three fingers into his mouth.
"Lick them good or I will hurt."
I watch his lustful face as he coats me generously with his saliva, my cock leaking freely onto his stomach. A blush is spreading across his chest and his cheeks. No, it is blooming on him. That tinge of reddish pink is very becoming on his pale white skin. It didn't appear as blotches like some average person's but it surfaces from below his translucent skin, like hurling things up from murky waters, it slowly surfaces. I pull my fingers out and he releases them with a 'pop'. I peck him gently on the lips.
"Watch," I whisper into his ear.
I turn around so my ass is facing him. Holding my erection with one hand, I angle my upper body downwards and arch my back dangerously.
He places his warm palms on my ass cheeks and pulls me apart. I poise my saliva-slicked fingers at my opening and squeeze them in all at once.
"AAaaahhhh………" My body trembles and my knees grow weak. For a moment there I didn't move, letting myself get use to the stretch while stroking my hard-on in long, deliberate motions. After my body calms down a little, I start to thrust my fingers in small movements. Then harder and harder I thrust into myself as my hole gets used to the increase in size. My body involuntarily rock back and forth and I had to let go of my erection so my hand could help steady myself. I can feel him licking my hand and fingers that is now slick with my fluids. It is such a turn-on! I watch as his dick throb visibly and precum starts to gather then overflow down the slit. I lick it off and I feel his body shiver at the touch. I pull my fingers out totally and turn back around. I look into his eyes as I push his penis into me.
I could see his face wincing from the tightness as I try to slide further and further down his shaft. The process is slower than I would have liked and having him grinding against my insides like that is making me want to come there and then. Painfully, in more ways than one, I bring him in further and further into my warmth.
I think my thighs got tired, or my knees grew weak. For the last two inches or so, my strength gave way and I come slamming down and burying him to the hilt. It came as a surprise for both of us and I nearly passed out. My whole world went black for a second too long.
"Oh my goodness…You are so much bigger than what I am used to having."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"Depends. If you use it well, I don't see how it can be a bad thing."
I start to move gradually though more grinding than actual thrust. It still hurts quite a bit. It is so slow it is driving me mad. More, I want more! But it hurts too much to force myself to go faster.
"Harry, I can't hold out much longer."
"No, too slow."
I have no idea how he changed our positions without pulling out but the next thing I know he had us in doggy style. He lifts up one of my legs and thrust in deeply.
"Aaahh…Too deep Draco! Hurts…"
"Bear with it for a while, I'm sorry but I'm at my limit."
He thrust into me with urgency and everything turns carnal. He could have been loving or even gentle at first but now he has pretty gone over the edge and lost his reason. It hurts a hell lot for me but it feels good. Every thrust is like he is trying to convey something to me, passing something on to me and hoping that I will get it. Such rough treatment got my body use to his size fairly quickly and I am finally enjoying the full extent of his largeness.
"I am…I am open so wide…Aaahh…So good, Draco!"
His moans are so manly they sound almost like grunts. But when he finally lets out a full moan, his voice is rich and velvety with a low ring. It makes me think of molten dark chocolate. More and more, he is moaning openly now, mixed in with my moans and the sound of skin slapping. I feel the whole bed rocking under me, the bed and my whole world. My entire existent! Stars are starting to burst out in front of my eyes and I struggle to regain my conscious which is slowly slipping away. And this is all before I orgasm. If this is what sex should be, then all the night activities I had before I merely exchanging of fluids. Draco brings my senses to higher grounds and I feel like this is a whole different league to regular sex.
"I'm coming soon. I want to see your face when you come."
I could not reply. I have lost too much of myself to care. He could do whatever he wants with me, just bring me to completion. He did that thing again where he maneuvered us into a new position, this time missionary, without pulling out or even stopping this time round. But then again, I could be too far gone to notice such a small time lapse. He effectively doubles me over and thrust straight down. This feels even deeper than before! I wrap my arms around his broad back. I think I scratched him a few times too. He throws one of my legs over his shoulder and grips my cock, stroking me with gusto.
"Drac…No…Too much it hurts…I'm gonna…Gonna come!"
He comes inside of me without warning, letting out a rather loud moan, his cum filling me to the brim and over, spilling out of my opening. That brought me to completion too, shooting onto my own chest and face. That is not the best part. The violent orgasm lasted twice as long as any orgasm that I have experienced and it is like something of a higher grade and quality than regular ones. Those cults that practice sexual rituals to reach Nirvana or whatever must be talking about this. I reach a stage of pure white, soundless and motionless. Everything so still and serene and untainted. When I regain consciousness, I have already been rolled on my side and Draco is spooning me with a lazy arm drape across my stomach and head buried in my neck.
"That was great," he whispers.
"Yah it was. I need to clean up and get back to work so let go."
"But I'm still inside."
He grinds inside of me a little. Only then did I realize that he hasn't pulled out. His size when he is erect is so different when he is not that I didn't take notice of it.
"Then pull out! I'm all sticky."
"I will wash you clean tomorrow. You must be tired too. It must have been hard on you since I am so big."
He brings his hand from around my stomach to finger my hole where he is still buried in. I moan softly. He brings is arm back into position to lock me in. His strong embrace and high body warmth makes me waver in my resolution to get back to work. He pulls the cover over us.
"I don't sleep with my partners, you know?"
"But I am not your normal one night stand right?"
"I will make sure I am not. And my first step is for you to sleep with me."
"I just did."
"That was sex, this is sleeping. Hush now, I'm sleepy."
I could not resist his strong hold on me and I decide that I didn't really want to. This could be good too. I need to learn to sleep with someone else in my bed or it might turn into some psychotic disorder or something. I close my eyes and pray for sleep. I thought I would have a hard time but listening to the sound of his breathing and feeling his hot breath on my naked shoulder, I fall asleep soon after.
I hope my english has improved significantly enough to make this story enjoyable. Thanks for reading and reviewing.