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We are getting closer and closer, almost to the point that I don’t remember what life was like before him. He has kept to his word. He supports me, looks after me, and in private, he makes my body come alive like it never has done before.
We’re serious about each other. How it all happened is like a blur in my mind, but I am happy. The happiest I have been in forever. Our relationship is still just for us, and while I know Harrison wants to make us public, it has been nice to get to know him privately first. There is less pressure, less expectation. We can be just ourselves around each other. I think that is why we have bloomed so quickly together.
His apartment is quiet and dark with no lights on, and being so high in the clouds, we are surrounded by gray. I stand near his large floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at nothing. Just the gray abyss, my mind somewhere else as Harrison takes a call in his den down the hall. I practically live here now, the switch from being an Event Manager in D.C. to being Harrison’s everything, both professionally and personally, was swift. But it feels like I finally belong.
I reach out, putting my hand flat against the window, feeling like I am touching the storm.
“Sorry, baby,” Harrison says, coming up behind me, interrupting my thoughts. His tender nickname for me is something he has gone to say a few times in public, something we need to be more careful with. But I love hearing it.
His phone wouldn’t stop as we arrived in his private elevator, so I have been standing here for fifteen minutes, waiting for him to return.
“Everything okay?” I ask as he stands flush with my back, his hands circling around my waist as his head dips, kissing my neck. I open to him like a flower, resting my head against his shoulder as his hands move up my body and cup my breasts, squeezing them. I moan a little under my breath. I love him touching my breasts.
“Fine. But I have a problem,” he murmurs against my skin, and I feel like I am losing the ability to stand as he hits a spot right between my ear and shoulder and my nipples immediately peak.
“What’s that?” I ask in a breathy tone. His hands and lips feel like they are all over me. My body turns to mush whenever he touches me.
“You have too many clothes on. Come on, let’s take a shower,” he says, as he swoops down and picks me up, walking me down to his room. This is an act that I realize he likes. Manhandling me. As a bigger girl, it was something I always balked at. I’m too heavy to be picked up and carried. I feel self-conscious. But Harrison’s hold on me is firm, his walk confident. There is no wavering, no pinched expression. It is like holding me is easy and he welcomes it.
“You will break your back carrying me all the time.” The quip leaves my lips before I even realize I have said it. Excuses for my heavy frame are so ingrained in me through years of apologizing for myself that I offer everyone a way out of treating me normally automatically. I’m a big girl, there is no denying it.
“If I break my back, that just means you have to sit on my face more while I am recuperating… so I don't mind one bit.” Harrison being funny and cheeky is something new, and I laugh, feeling lighter again already.
Walking into the bathroom, he sets me down on my feet as he leans in and turns on the shower. It is massive. In fact, the entire bathroom is as big as my home. A large bathtub, large enough for at least five people, sits along one wall, the double shower next to it, and a double vanity across the other wall. All framed with another large floor-to-ceiling window, with no view today, because of the thick gray clouds outside.
I watch as Harrison rips open his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, before he skillfully and quickly opens each button, ripping his shirt off his shoulders and throwing it across the floor. My eyes are glued. I have seen him before, but it is a sight I will never tire of, and my hands automatically come to his chest.
“I like your hands on me,” he says as his hands cup my face, and he pulls me to him. Our lips smash together, melding and moving as our tongues explore, neither of us able to get enough. I feel his hands lower and move around to my back as he skillfully lowers my zipper and pushes my dress from my shoulders.
He pulls back and looks at me, standing in his bathroom, surrounded by steam, in nothing but my matching black lace bra and underwear, and my black patent leather high heels. I should feel awkward, embarrassed, but I don’t. The way Harrison looks at me fills me with confidence I didn’t know I had.
“You had this on under your dress all day and didn’t tell me?” Harrisons questions, shaking his head as his hand comes to my chest, brushing against my nipple.
“You need to concentrate at work. You don’t need distractions,” I say with a wink.
“You were a distraction from the moment I met you a year ago. Now I have you, there is no way in hell that you are disappearing on me again.” Every day I spend with him, I fall more and more. I never thought I would find my person. I never thought I was worthy enough. But Harrison makes me feel desired and like I am everything to him. After years of feeling like a disappointment and never being enough, it fills me with so much power to be myself.
His hands trace up my skin, where he grabs my bra straps and pulls them down each shoulder, before tugging the cups of my bra. He openly admires me for a moment.
“You are such a breast man,” I say with a giggle, as I reach around my back and unclasp my bra, letting it fall to the floor at my feet.
“Oh no I’m not…I am a Beth man. Your breasts, your ass, your curves, your hair, your fucking eyes every time you look at me. The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you make those little moans every time I touch you, the way you pant before you come. The way you are such a good girl when I side my cock down your throat…Fucking everything about you I like. So I am a Beth man through and through…” he says, and for the second time in under five minutes, I am rendered speechless.
He moves quickly then, undoing his belt and pulling his pants and underwear down in one swoop. His cock is large, throbbing and ready, as he hooks in his thumbs to my underwear and slowly pulls them down my legs, letting me step out of them, before he throws them to the side to join our other clothes.
“Let’s take a shower, before I get you dirty again,” he says as we step into the steaming water.
“Dirty?” I ask, admiring the water as it skims over his pecs and shoulders, needing to pinch myself that I am actually with such a man.
“Fucking filthy,” he grits out, pulling me to him, our naked bodies pushed together, him holding me tight. I feel him throbbing at my belly and I pull my lips off his, before looking him in the eyes and slowly lowering to my knees. Our eyes don’t leave each other’s, but I see his jaw tick slightly and his chest rise and fall a little quicker.
“How filthy?” I question, as I lean forward and skirt my tongue around his tip, and I see his grip on the shower frame above my head tighten, his knuckles almost white.
“Are you teasing me, baby?” he says, barely able to get the words out, his eyes honed in on where my mouth is currently taking him in.
“Mmmmmm,” is all I can say around him. He is large, thick, and heavy on my tongue, and delicious.
“Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” he groans, his hips moving slightly as I continue to take him deeper and faster.
