AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Look at me updating again! Obviously I fell asleep by the pods and the real me has been abducted by Body Snatchers!!

I appreciate everyone who reads so, so much. If you enjoy my story, please vote, comment, and share with your friends. Comments are a huge motivator for me. 

Buckets o'love. xo

TWITTER:  @lovethedinklage

*****

SHERRY:

I finish the conversation en route to Harry's room with my sandwich, handing my phone over to Harry to say a couple of things before hanging up.

After he hangs up, he gives me a sheepish grin and then asks a question that almost causes me to choke on an apple slice.

"So . . . whose cock shots are those on your phone?"

*****

SHERRY

"Cock shots?" My brow furrows as I hear random laughing and realize it's my own. I'm an involuntary nervous laughter, and I hate it.

Fuck. The cock shots. Now it looks like I'm hungry for the D. Not that I'm not (a little), but seeing as Harry and I are at the beginning of our involvement, combined with the fact that I'm unaware of his sexual capabilities at this point, makes this treacherous water to navigate.

"You had 80 nudes. That's a lot of dick," Harry's eyes are glassy and expectant.

"Oh my God, Harry. They weren't all dick," I scroll through my nudes and delete a fair amount.  "There, I've deleted them. They needed to be deleted anyway."

"Don't delete your hard cocks on account of me," Harry huffs. I love the way his lips move when he says cocks.

"Alright, for one, there weren't multiple cocks in those pictures. They were all of my ex-boyfriend that I dated for over a year," I defend myself. "Also, if you look in my family and friends file, you'd see that I have clothed pictures of him as well. It's not like I went though and deleted all of his pictures but decided to salvage the nudes for masturbation."

It's almost as if I can see the gears in his brain turning as he considers this information. "So why'd you break up?"

"Because he wasn't trustworthy. I kept catching him looking through my phone," I deliver my response with a wink, earning a small chuckle from Harry.

"Point taken," he grins, adding a supplemental eye roll.

My need for information is not satisfied. "So, is that what you're upset over? The nudes? Are you jealous?" I sit on the edge of the bed and watch him squirm. "Why were you looking on my phone anyway?"

Harry takes in a deep breath and slowly releases it.

"I'm not mad, Harry. I know you're going through a lot of things right now, but I can't help you if I don't know what they are."

I push his hair behind his ear, and he catches my hand in his on the way down, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"I was looking for the remote in the covers and I found your phone. It must have slipped out of your pocket while we were, um, messing around," he begins.

"Ah, messing around can rattle things loose, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry smiles. "I remember when we first texted and you joked that there were nudes on your phone."

I act comically offended, "So you're saying this is my fault?"

"Shut up," he chides. "I knew I shouldn't have looked, but fuck. Whatever, I looked. I scrolled through your abundance of cock shots in search of your naughty bits."

"Abundance, my ass, Harry!" I punch him in the arm. This motherfucker.

"Aw, fuck," he groans, releasing my hand so he can hide his face. "I'll only say the rest of it if I can keep my face covered while I do it."

This would be funny if Harry wasn't acting so bi-polar, so I hold myself together for his sake. Fuck, poor guy. Maybe I should just let him off the hook. "Why don't we just forget about it, okay?" I pat his shoulder.

"No. No. You need to know. I want to tell you. I do. It's just . . ." He takes another breath and then spills forth an avalanche of information. "So I keep looking for your nudes because the idea of it, fuck, the idea is fucking thrilling. I finally find them. All these pussy shots, and you have – you have your fingers down there touching yourself and you're so wet and, Jesus Fuck. I just was imagining myself with my face buried deep between your folds, so deep that I breathe in nothing but pink." He paused for a breath, the majority of his face still hidden by his hands, his tongue languidly swipes over his lower lip. I am so aroused by his explanation that I want nothing more than to push his hands away and climb up and take a seat on his face.

I am stunned and quiet. So much so, that Harry asks, "Are you still there? Sherry?"

"Umm. Yeah.  Yes, Harry. I . . ." I stumble, short of breath.

Once he's assured I haven't left him, he surges onward, "So I'm looking at your pictures and they are so sexy, Sherry. And I think about the times we've been kissing, and when I even touched your, uh – your nipples a little, and . . . and I have this sudden awareness."

He pauses. Sitting there. Hiding. I gently reach up and move his hands away from his face, holding them in my own. They are wet with his tears, and his skin is blotchy and tear-stained. I caress his hands softly and wait for him to say what by now I'm pretty sure I've figured out on my own.

He looks into my eyes with weariness, and I press my lips to his cheek and hold the gesture, nuzzling his tears with my nose.

"I'm so broken, Sherry. Those things should have made my dick as hard as a rock. But they didn't. Nothing happened, Sherry," he sobs audibly now. "Nothing happened."