Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Remember That Time I Fucked Harry Styles of One Direction?

Stop smiling at the ground, you weirdo.

One magical (oh, dear lord, I can already hear Bianca Del Rio's) night at the Ritz, my roommate Jason ( and I were at The Ritz Bar and Lounge in Hell's Kitchen for Miss Bianca's weekly Monday night drag show that starts three hours after the advertised time, and a gorgeous twink was looking our way and eye raping one of us. Jason, having a penchant for twinks, immediately locked onto his target and exclaimed, "Look at that boy across the room who looks like all of One Direction put into one!"

Being the drunk asshole that I am, I looked up, smiled at the boy, walked across the room, and introduced myself to his personal space. He really was beautiful and looked like the product of the members of One Direction deciding to combine their powers like the Planeteers. He placed a hand on my ass as he brought his face closer to mine, giving me his name with a smirk. I forgot where I was, and assumed his name was Harry - which was what I referred to him as all night.

Thanks, I get that a lot.

I was actually a little surprised that he was into me instead of my roommate, mostly because I was oblivious to twinks back then and didn't even have them on my radar. As he got my next cocktail I looked behind me to see Jason incredulously gawking at the fact that I just stole his midnight snack as well as our friends beside him shaking their heads at me in amusement. One actually pulled me aside after I'd finished drunkenly making out with Harry for the umpteenth time and asked, "You do realize he's a big ol' bottom, right?" To which I responded by waving them off and walking back to Harry and running my fingers through his perfectly windswept hair.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered into my ear.

Harry Styles' doppelganger then took my hand and led me out of the bar and toward his hotel. It was during that stumble toward his room that I learned he was actually from the UK and was in town working as a freelance photographer. As interesting as that all was, I was more intrigued by the hard body I felt through his clothes and an even harder cock I felt as he pushed me down onto the bed. Stripping him of his shirt revealed a smooth, solid body I was more than ready to ravage.

He expertly rid me of my street clothes and began prepping my hole with his tongue. Spreading my ass cheeks apart, he drove deeper and deeper still until I was leaking precum and begging for his cock. He reached into his bag for a condom, lathered his cock with lube, and slowly pushed it inside me, making sure I felt every inch. He began to increase the rhythm of each stroke causing me to whimper beneath him, then flipped me over so that I was on top of and riding him like my life depended on it.

Pulling me in for a deep, passionate kiss, Harry threw me off him and onto my back, held my legs in the air and shoved his talent right back inside me and pounded away, causing me to moan out in ecstasy and pain, and probably waking the some of the nearby hotel guests. Breathing heavier, his body began to jolt and I could feel his cock swell up inside me as he came, causing me to nearly lose my mind.

He slowly pulled out of me and tossed the condom off to the side, laughing as he said, "Fuck! That was hot... now it's my turn!" Your turn for what, I thought, as he grabbed another condom and placed it over my still raging erection. "Woah, woah, woah," I slowed him down, "I'm probably one of the biggest power bottoms you've met - if you want to flip, that's what I have friends for" as I reached over to the nightstand, unlocked my phone, and began texting a few of the tops I knew who were still out and about, including my roommate.

Thanks for a hot fuck, Harry!