HARRY:

I pull her to me by her finger, "C'mere and I'll tell you what I want."

After stomping her boots in playful frustration, she sits on the edge of the bed, "What? What could you possibly want, Harry?"

I pull her close, teasing her soft lips of Burt's Bees peppermint with the hint of a kiss, moving my hungry lips along her jawline before she can even begin to respond. Swiping the shell of her ear with my tongue, I whisper my request. "I want you to sit on my face."

*****

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

"You ain't seen nothin' til you're down on a muffin."

-AEROSMITH

*****

HARRY

Sherry's body, previously pliant with mine, stills in a brief state of suspended animation. "What?" Her voice is breathy and low as she pulls back, her eyes searching my face.

Her responsiveness captivates me. Whether it be reacting to my words or touch, she's always right there with me in the moment. It never felt this way with Paige, ever. Not at the beginning when things should have been fresh and new, nor at the end when things should have settled into a comfortable awareness.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" I wink.

She just blinks at me. "What do you mean?" She blushes and looks away. She knows what I mean.

"You heard me," I stroke her left cheek, letting my hand wander down between her breasts, crossing her stomach before finally coming to a casual rest between her thighs. "Do you want me to say it again?"

She's trying to think of a way to get out of it.

"Harry, I don't know if there's a comfortable way to work this out for the both of us, with your condition and all. . ." she rambles. I knew it.

"I already figured that out, babe." I try to get a read on her, but she won't make eye contact. "Do you not want to do it?" I ask flat out.

Her hands slide up my chest to my neck, nestling in my hair, she buries her face in my shoulder. She kisses my neck, my cheek, my lips. Her tongue is gentle against my skin, like I want mine to be against hers. Maybe I tried this too soon. Maybe she wants to wait until after my doctor's appointment to see if I'm fixable before she invests in me too much. I spend my next few thoughts berating myself for being an asshat while Sherry leaves a trail of kisses across my jawline toward my ear.

She whispers, "I want to," in the quietest voice I've ever heard from her, her timbre both sexy and timid at once. "I'm just . . . shy." She murmurs into my hair, leaving her face hidden there, and I'm pretty sure she can feel the rapid expansion of my grin against her cheek. Ah, there's my sexy girl.

"You're sure, baby?" She nods her agreement into my curls. "Because I don't want to do it unless you want me to do it. I mean, I hope you'll like it." Shit. Now I'm the one embarrassed.

A wide-eyed Sherry emerges from my hair, shyness a thing of the past. "What do you mean 'you hope I'll like it'?"

Fuck. "Can we maybe talk about this after?"

Her eyebrows raise in expectation. Ugh.

I take a deep breath, "Because I've never gone down on anyone before cause Paige didn't want me to and I don't really want to talk about her now that I have you especially right before I'm about to —you know— and I just really want to do it but I might just be a bumbling idiot, so—"

In a flash, her lips overtake mine and squash my worries. I pull her as close as possible, and we're engulfed in a fucking hot makeout session, which is perfect cause I planned on making out first anyway.

Our tongues swirl with varying intensities from slow and sensual to aggressively animalistic, our lips struggle to keep up. Fuck, I hope I get back to my normal physical self. I just want to throw her down and fuck her 'til her tits shake and my balls slap against her asshole. Knock-knock, baby.

Her t-shirt bunches in my fists as I raise it up. I want to pull it off without breaking the kiss but that's impossible. "Take this off, babe," I mumble into her mouth, my words fall across her tongue. She pulls back, grabs her shirt by the neck-hole, hauls it over her head, and flings it across the room. She's wearing a black bra with sheer cups, her hardened nipples fully visible. "Christ," I make no attempt to hide my admiration for her tits as I allow my eyes to do a lazy sweep from one breast to the other. We sit for a second to catch our breath, and after a tad more tit oogling, she giggles and reaches up behind her back to unhook her bra. When she pulls it off her shoulders and leans in to kiss me again, I am blessed by her moans as my hands cover her breasts.

"You like that, baby?" I breathe out between kisses while I palm her tits and cup them in my hands. From the way she's squirming against me looking for some relief, I can tell that she does. I can't wait to get between her legs and provide that for her.

"You look fucking hot in those cowboy boots." I confess, pinching her nipples between my fingertips.

Her moans transform into a giggle and a "shut up, Harry." She leans her head back, offering her neck to my tongue.

"I'm serious," I speak lower, covering her neck with licks and kisses, leaning down to bite a nipple while her eyes are closed.

A whimper of surprise falls from her lips, as her hands tangle in my hair and pull me up to kiss her.

"One day I'm going to fuck you while you're wearing those boots," I whisper into her hair and I'm rewarded with a light growl. "I'm ready for my dessert now, baby," I squeeze her ass with my left hand.

Her breath hitches, and I can feel a combination of excitement and apprehension radiating from her in equal measures. "Harry, I just . . . I don't wanna suffocate you or anything ridiculous."

"Mmm, baby – you won't," I push her hair back, kissing her lips lightly. "Look, I figured you say something like that, so I am willing to make some slight compromises I think we'll both be satisfied with." I give her my best cheesy grin, and she laughs. "Trust me?"

"Ask me that after this little escapade, and I'll letcha know." She's sarcastic in tone, but winks just the same.

I clap my hands together. "Okay, get rid of the rest of your clothes." I instruct.

From the look on her face, it's obvious I am getting a little carried away with things. She stands, covering her breasts with the palms of her hands — which is totally fucking hot — and chastises me briefly. If I can just survive the awkward setup, we'll be golden.

I give a quick rundown of what I believe is the best way to accomplish the task. "You must have been drumming this up since the first day I walked in," she surmises. She is not mistaken.

If she's concerned about suffocating me, that's a non-issue cause I've revised things so she doesn't have to actually sit on my face.  The important thing is that we're both comfortable and enjoy it. I want a face-full of her pussy and an ear-full of her calling my name.

The hospital bed adjusts to various height levels as a whole, and can also be tilted according to personal preference. In addition, after a brief bit of online research, I discover that my over-bed tray table that we use for lunch, games, the laptop, etc., is also adjustable and can support up to 500 pounds! That's some serious overkill, but if I had a cheap-ass table that only supported 40 pounds, I'd never try this because I wouldn't want it to fall and hurt either one of us.

In my mind, we lay a pillow on the tray table. Sherry lies on the tray table with her ass at the very end, we adjust the height of the bed and table accordingly, and I've got a fucking pussy buffet on wheels. I can roll the table as need be, she's comfortable, she doesn't have to worry about potential suffocation, and it also allows for full arm mobility!

I reach over and turn off the bedside lamp, leaving just the tv on for light. I'd rather have the lamp on but I don't want to push the envelope tonight. I already had to do a five-minute explanation and bed/table adjustment that probably killed her mood.

Ever the trooper, she sits in the bedside chair, tugging off her boots. "You do realize how crazy this is, right?"

"A little. Yeah," I grin, watching her wiggle out of her jeans. "Okay, fuck – maybe a lot. So what?" I pull off my t-shirt too, not that it matters really. I don't want her to feel weird being naked while I'm clothed and under a sheet.

At last she's down to only her panties and a pair of crazy looking knitted socks that somehow make her look sexy as fuck. "If you ever tell anyone about this, Harry . . ." She threatens me as she grabs a spare pillow from the closet and flings it at my head.

I catch it easily and place it on top of the tray-table. "C'mere and settle in, babe." I wink, patting the pillow with my hand.

Sherry is silent as she approaches the area with the cutest look on her face. In this moment, she is the perfect blend of sexy and awkward, and I really want to laugh but I dare not. In fact, I'd take a picture if I didn't think she'd cut me.

Always the gentleman, I hold the cart steady while she gets settled. "Have I officially asked you to be my girlfriend yet? Because if I've neglected to do so, I would like to extend the offer to you at this point."

"Seeing as I'm about to become your sacrificial lamb on this precarious rolling table, that offer may provide some comfort." She grins, straddling the table, her feet hanging over the end coming to rest on the bed, one on each side of my torso.

"So, it's official then?" In my mind I am fist-pumping, cart-wheeling, and shooting off a gob of fireworks.

Taking my arm, she uses it to propel the table closer to me while she's still in a sitting position. She leans forward, grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my face to hers. "You're lucky you're so fucking cute, Styles." Her lips and tongue dominate the kiss and I let her. I let her pull my hair this way and that, the most aggressive she's been with me yet — and I fucking love it. But all too soon she's had her fill, and pushes me back into my pillow. "Ready to get this show on the road?" She winks, lies back on the table, and I'm face to face with a small triangle of black panties.