The Only Time
Call It What You Want
“It will be fine! You’ll have so much fun!” My mother assures me as she explains that I will be going on a date with Harry Styles—yes, the Harry Styles from One Direction. My mother and his mother, Anne, have been friends for a long time and they just thought it would be perfect for Harry and me to go out on date, like we’re their fucking play toys or something. But the thing is, I haven’t seen Harry in five years—since before he was famous.
“I’m not so sure, Mom,” I tell her with my nose scrunched up. “I haven’t seen him in so long. And I highly doubt we have anything in common.”
“It doesn’t matter because you’re going,” she says bluntly. “I already made the plans and you can do this for me. And anyway, have I ever steered you wrong?”
“No,” I groan, rolling my eyes. I get up off the couch and go to my room to get ready. I take a shower and brushing out my straight brunette hair. I stand in my bra and panties in my bathroom, smudging on a dramatic gray smoky eye look with light pink lipstick. I then put on a stunning grey ruffle dress with black booties.
“Ready,” I announce, stepping out into the living room where my mother awaits to give her approval.
“Oh, honey, you look adorable!” My mother gushes, placing her hands over her mouth. She then checks her watch. “Oh! Harry will be here any minute!”
Just then, the doorbell rings and my mother and I spring into action. My mother answers the door and I wait anxiously in the living room. Harry and I had always gotten along when we were kids, but what if things were different now? He’s a big famous pop star. Why would he want anything to do with a plain ol’ girl like me?
“Here she is!” My mother says proudly, gesturing to me with Harry in tow. “My daughter, Isabella.”
“I know her name,” Harry assures her in a deep voice—deeper than what I expecting.
“Hello,” I greet, my voice cracking slightly.
“Hello,” he mimics, stepping forward. He is dressed in fancy suit with shiny black shoes (I don’t know much about men’s fashion). There’s an awkward silence as we look each other up and down, shocked to see what puberty has done to each other. Finally, he speaks: “Well, shall we go?”
“Oh, right!” I say almost too loudly, snapping out of my trance. Harry takes me by the arm and leads me to the door. When he opens it, a large, bald man is standing there. “Umm…”
“This is Baldy, my body guard,” Harry explains with a smirk.
“Will he be with us the entire evening?” I murmur cautiously, eyeing Baldy.
“He’ll be there but he won’t be seen, trust me,” Harry assures me.
“Okay…” I mutter, walking toward the black SUV parked in my driveway.
The ride to the restaurant is quite awkward. Harry attempts to make small talk but I don’t feel comfortable with the driver and the bulging body guard in the same vicinity as us. I hold back most of my answers and comments until we’re at the restaurant.
“Here we are!” Harry announces, stepping out the car and gesturing to a swanky restaurant downtown. “I heard they have great sushi here,” he says, putting an arm around my back.
We enter the eatery and I observe all the circular tables donned with white table clothes, fine china and glimmering glassware. The walls are painted a deep crimson—like blood. It churns my stomach a little bit—but maybe that is just the nerves.
As we walk across the restaurant, head turns and whispers erupt as people notice and the girl on Harry Styles’ arm—me. I start to recede mentally but when I feel Harry squeeze my wrist with his hand and I suddenly feel so much better. I flash a bright smile as we sit down at a table and Baldy disappears.
During dinner, I continue to relax—it’s just Harry and me, no one else. We discuss music and movies, TV shows. We both order sushi (I didn’t want to at first but Harry convinced me to). It was delicious. We discuss some crazy stories of what happened on tour, and we share a decadent dessert. What a wonderful date.
“Would you like to come back to my hotel room?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow. “For coffee, I mean.” He clears his throat, recovering.
“Sure, I would love to,” I say confidently, taking his hand and leading him to the car.
“Well here we are,” Harry says nonchalantly as we enter the room. It was the nicest hotel room I have ever been in—full kitchen and… a king-size bed.
“It’s lovely,” I assure him with a grin. I then look to the bed, ready to go. I kick off my heels and stomp my way over to Harry, gripping him by the neck and planting a huge kiss on his lips.
“Whoa, Isabella, what are you doing?” He asks, panicking and pulling away.
“What?” I tilt my head. “Don’t you want me too? Isn’t that why you invited me back here?”
“Yes, but I was just making sure you were okay with it.”
“Trust me,” I nod. “I’m okay with it.” I then reach behind me, pulling me dress zipper down and shimmying my way out of it, revealing my delicate body. Harry’s eyes widen in satisfaction. I then throw him on the bed, straddling his waist and leaving smooches all over his face.
“Whoa,” Harry says breathlessly. I bet he wasn’t expecting this from poor, little, innocent Isabella. I then grip the collars of his dress shirt and pull it apart with all my might, buttons flying everywhere. “Hey, I like this shirt!”
“Sh-h. Don’t speak… just feel,” I purr, running my hands along his pecks.
There is fear in Harry’s eyes but it’s replaced with a lustful intensity. “Very well, then.”
Harry flips me over on my back and kisses me passionately, moving his lips down my neck and to my breasts. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful.” I sit up and he unclasps my bra, sliding it off my arms and tossing it on the ground. He lays me back down and continues with his smooches, massaging my right breast with his hand.
“Oh, Harry,” I moan, feeling his tongue across my neck. I wrap my arms around his torso, squeezing my fingertips in his muscular back.
Harry stands up, fumbling with his belt with shaky hands and unbuttoning his dress pants. He shoves them down his legs, a bulge in his boxer briefs. He climbs back on top of me, straddling my waist and rubbing the bulge against my pelvis. I groan at the feeling. Harry licks my cheek and begins to nibble on my ear lobe. It’s almost too much for me to handle. It feels like something has been turned on inside me—I feel an intense urge to just ravage this man on top of me. I’ve never felt like this before.
Harry has had enough. He gets back up, opens the drawer to the bedside table and pulls out a metallic square. Ripping it open, he slides down his boxer briefs and slides the condom onto his length. He grips my panties and yanks them down. I spread my legs and he is immediately inside me.
“Oh, God!” I cry out.
“You like that?” Harry murmurs with a seductive smirk. “You want more?” He thrusts himself in me as deep as he can possibly go. It almost hurts—but the pleasure outweighs the pain.
“Yes, Harry, please, give it to me,” I groan, rolling my head back and forth against the mattress.
Harry begins to slowly pump himself into me, carefully measuring each push. He rubs his faces all over my chest and breasts, breathing in and memorizing my scent. He grips my hip harshly for leverage.
I feel like I’m going to break beneath him; he’s so strong and perfect. My head starts to swim as the chemicals release into my body. Everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. The only thing I can hear is my pounding heart beat and just vaguely, the sound of Harry’s grunts. Sweat beads begin to form across our bodies, making things slippery. My mouth gapes open and my eyes roll back in my head while Harry continues to kiss my sweaty body—all over.
My body erupting with ecstasy, I continue to moan—and even shout out some curses. I block out everyone and everything. It’s just Harry and me right now. My grip on the comforter beneath me grows weak and my hips begin to roll as I reach climax. I kiss Harry sloppily—mouths wide open and tongues gliding past each other. A pressure builds on my forehead while the rest of my head feels light and airy; my muscles contract, fighting the urge to lose their control against me.
“Oh, fuck!” I yell out as I orgasm while Harry grins mischievously.
With a few more thrusts, Harry climaxes as well. He moves his open mouth along my left breast, tasting my sweat. When his panting settles to just heavy breathing, he pulls out and stands up, taking off the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash can.
I lay there helplessly for a few moments, watching him. He walks with such confidence and ease. I wish I could be like that. I’m just simple Isabella—nothing interesting happens to me; except for this. I did just fuck Harry Styles. But I’m snapped out of my thought pattern when I feel the bed creak beneath the weight of another person.
“You want to spend the night?” Harry asks, still naked and taking a bite out of a red apple.
“Sure,” I croak. I’m sure my mother will just love this.
Harry takes another munching bite and gestures for me to come over by him; I do so. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses my forehead. This was definitely not like the old time, but I could definitely live with this. Harry sets the apple down on the side table and turns to look me in the eyes. His green beauties are piercing through to my soul.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask, feeling uncomfortable and curious.
“Nothing; just thinking about how when we were kids and I would pull your hair or push you down. You wouldn’t cry or run to tell our moms—you were stronger than that. You always seemed to have something to prove.”
I pause for a moment, thinking. “Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?” I ask.
Harry breaks into a smile, chuckling. “It’s just a fact.” Suddenly, I yawn ferociously. “You need sleep,” he states. He pulls the covers over us and squeezes me tight, kissing me once more before we drift off to sleep.
“I’m not so sure, Mom,” I tell her with my nose scrunched up. “I haven’t seen him in so long. And I highly doubt we have anything in common.”
“It doesn’t matter because you’re going,” she says bluntly. “I already made the plans and you can do this for me. And anyway, have I ever steered you wrong?”
“No,” I groan, rolling my eyes. I get up off the couch and go to my room to get ready. I take a shower and brushing out my straight brunette hair. I stand in my bra and panties in my bathroom, smudging on a dramatic gray smoky eye look with light pink lipstick. I then put on a stunning grey ruffle dress with black booties.
“Ready,” I announce, stepping out into the living room where my mother awaits to give her approval.
“Oh, honey, you look adorable!” My mother gushes, placing her hands over her mouth. She then checks her watch. “Oh! Harry will be here any minute!”
Just then, the doorbell rings and my mother and I spring into action. My mother answers the door and I wait anxiously in the living room. Harry and I had always gotten along when we were kids, but what if things were different now? He’s a big famous pop star. Why would he want anything to do with a plain ol’ girl like me?
“Here she is!” My mother says proudly, gesturing to me with Harry in tow. “My daughter, Isabella.”
“I know her name,” Harry assures her in a deep voice—deeper than what I expecting.
“Hello,” I greet, my voice cracking slightly.
“Hello,” he mimics, stepping forward. He is dressed in fancy suit with shiny black shoes (I don’t know much about men’s fashion). There’s an awkward silence as we look each other up and down, shocked to see what puberty has done to each other. Finally, he speaks: “Well, shall we go?”
“Oh, right!” I say almost too loudly, snapping out of my trance. Harry takes me by the arm and leads me to the door. When he opens it, a large, bald man is standing there. “Umm…”
“This is Baldy, my body guard,” Harry explains with a smirk.
“Will he be with us the entire evening?” I murmur cautiously, eyeing Baldy.
“He’ll be there but he won’t be seen, trust me,” Harry assures me.
“Okay…” I mutter, walking toward the black SUV parked in my driveway.
The ride to the restaurant is quite awkward. Harry attempts to make small talk but I don’t feel comfortable with the driver and the bulging body guard in the same vicinity as us. I hold back most of my answers and comments until we’re at the restaurant.
“Here we are!” Harry announces, stepping out the car and gesturing to a swanky restaurant downtown. “I heard they have great sushi here,” he says, putting an arm around my back.
We enter the eatery and I observe all the circular tables donned with white table clothes, fine china and glimmering glassware. The walls are painted a deep crimson—like blood. It churns my stomach a little bit—but maybe that is just the nerves.
As we walk across the restaurant, head turns and whispers erupt as people notice and the girl on Harry Styles’ arm—me. I start to recede mentally but when I feel Harry squeeze my wrist with his hand and I suddenly feel so much better. I flash a bright smile as we sit down at a table and Baldy disappears.
During dinner, I continue to relax—it’s just Harry and me, no one else. We discuss music and movies, TV shows. We both order sushi (I didn’t want to at first but Harry convinced me to). It was delicious. We discuss some crazy stories of what happened on tour, and we share a decadent dessert. What a wonderful date.
“Would you like to come back to my hotel room?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow. “For coffee, I mean.” He clears his throat, recovering.
“Sure, I would love to,” I say confidently, taking his hand and leading him to the car.
“Well here we are,” Harry says nonchalantly as we enter the room. It was the nicest hotel room I have ever been in—full kitchen and… a king-size bed.
“It’s lovely,” I assure him with a grin. I then look to the bed, ready to go. I kick off my heels and stomp my way over to Harry, gripping him by the neck and planting a huge kiss on his lips.
“Whoa, Isabella, what are you doing?” He asks, panicking and pulling away.
“What?” I tilt my head. “Don’t you want me too? Isn’t that why you invited me back here?”
“Yes, but I was just making sure you were okay with it.”
“Trust me,” I nod. “I’m okay with it.” I then reach behind me, pulling me dress zipper down and shimmying my way out of it, revealing my delicate body. Harry’s eyes widen in satisfaction. I then throw him on the bed, straddling his waist and leaving smooches all over his face.
“Whoa,” Harry says breathlessly. I bet he wasn’t expecting this from poor, little, innocent Isabella. I then grip the collars of his dress shirt and pull it apart with all my might, buttons flying everywhere. “Hey, I like this shirt!”
“Sh-h. Don’t speak… just feel,” I purr, running my hands along his pecks.
There is fear in Harry’s eyes but it’s replaced with a lustful intensity. “Very well, then.”
Harry flips me over on my back and kisses me passionately, moving his lips down my neck and to my breasts. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful.” I sit up and he unclasps my bra, sliding it off my arms and tossing it on the ground. He lays me back down and continues with his smooches, massaging my right breast with his hand.
“Oh, Harry,” I moan, feeling his tongue across my neck. I wrap my arms around his torso, squeezing my fingertips in his muscular back.
Harry stands up, fumbling with his belt with shaky hands and unbuttoning his dress pants. He shoves them down his legs, a bulge in his boxer briefs. He climbs back on top of me, straddling my waist and rubbing the bulge against my pelvis. I groan at the feeling. Harry licks my cheek and begins to nibble on my ear lobe. It’s almost too much for me to handle. It feels like something has been turned on inside me—I feel an intense urge to just ravage this man on top of me. I’ve never felt like this before.
Harry has had enough. He gets back up, opens the drawer to the bedside table and pulls out a metallic square. Ripping it open, he slides down his boxer briefs and slides the condom onto his length. He grips my panties and yanks them down. I spread my legs and he is immediately inside me.
“Oh, God!” I cry out.
“You like that?” Harry murmurs with a seductive smirk. “You want more?” He thrusts himself in me as deep as he can possibly go. It almost hurts—but the pleasure outweighs the pain.
“Yes, Harry, please, give it to me,” I groan, rolling my head back and forth against the mattress.
Harry begins to slowly pump himself into me, carefully measuring each push. He rubs his faces all over my chest and breasts, breathing in and memorizing my scent. He grips my hip harshly for leverage.
I feel like I’m going to break beneath him; he’s so strong and perfect. My head starts to swim as the chemicals release into my body. Everything feels like it’s going in slow motion. The only thing I can hear is my pounding heart beat and just vaguely, the sound of Harry’s grunts. Sweat beads begin to form across our bodies, making things slippery. My mouth gapes open and my eyes roll back in my head while Harry continues to kiss my sweaty body—all over.
My body erupting with ecstasy, I continue to moan—and even shout out some curses. I block out everyone and everything. It’s just Harry and me right now. My grip on the comforter beneath me grows weak and my hips begin to roll as I reach climax. I kiss Harry sloppily—mouths wide open and tongues gliding past each other. A pressure builds on my forehead while the rest of my head feels light and airy; my muscles contract, fighting the urge to lose their control against me.
“Oh, fuck!” I yell out as I orgasm while Harry grins mischievously.
With a few more thrusts, Harry climaxes as well. He moves his open mouth along my left breast, tasting my sweat. When his panting settles to just heavy breathing, he pulls out and stands up, taking off the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash can.
I lay there helplessly for a few moments, watching him. He walks with such confidence and ease. I wish I could be like that. I’m just simple Isabella—nothing interesting happens to me; except for this. I did just fuck Harry Styles. But I’m snapped out of my thought pattern when I feel the bed creak beneath the weight of another person.
“You want to spend the night?” Harry asks, still naked and taking a bite out of a red apple.
“Sure,” I croak. I’m sure my mother will just love this.
Harry takes another munching bite and gestures for me to come over by him; I do so. He wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses my forehead. This was definitely not like the old time, but I could definitely live with this. Harry sets the apple down on the side table and turns to look me in the eyes. His green beauties are piercing through to my soul.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask, feeling uncomfortable and curious.
“Nothing; just thinking about how when we were kids and I would pull your hair or push you down. You wouldn’t cry or run to tell our moms—you were stronger than that. You always seemed to have something to prove.”
I pause for a moment, thinking. “Should I take that as a compliment or an insult?” I ask.
Harry breaks into a smile, chuckling. “It’s just a fact.” Suddenly, I yawn ferociously. “You need sleep,” he states. He pulls the covers over us and squeezes me tight, kissing me once more before we drift off to sleep.
Notes
This was a request--the first one by someone I didn't know! I'm extremely proud of this one; I think I really stepped up my game and brought out the big guns for this one. I have to credit a lot of the storyline by good friend, Diana (subscribe to her on YouTube: AsToldByDi). I have four more requests lined up so I'll get those out ASAP!Isabella's Outfit: http://tinyurl.com/kwgdhlh
Title Credit: "Call It What You Want" by Foster the People
-DestroyShelbeyy
I love these! You're an amazing writer! (:
5/4/16