Dreaming Of You // Harry Styles

Instead of rushing in, we stumbled and kissed in practically every flight of the stairs as if we were the only living persons on the planet. Her mouth tasted as sweets and her body felt so good between my hands. She furiously lapped and nibbled my lips and gasped into my ear as I sucked on her neck with passion. Until then I didn’t truly realise how much I’d been waiting for that moment, even before I met her in the bookstore, and to have her like that, falling back against the wall, succumbing to my kiss and my touch, holding me near with her leg as I ran my hands underneath her skirt was the greatest sensation of all. What was the problem if she was a commie?

When we finally made it upstairs she began to open the door as I trailed the rim of her ear with my tongue, holding her by the waist tightly against my crotch. We stepped inside and although my mind was fixated on her I couldn’t help but stand amazed. Her flat was a spacious attic mainly in white, very illuminated by the sunshine. The windows were at the left, where the bed was located, and not too large in size, but the angle seemed to capture all the brightness from outdoors and project it throughout the place. The ceilings were curbed as in the typical French mansard. I could tell she was so proud of her home. I felt it as I glanced around and she snickered. An antique bath on one side captured my attention. She laughed.

“The bathroom is too small so they put it outside. It’s actually quite common in Paris,” she said giggling as I stood there with my hands on my waist, puzzled.

She glimpsed at me and walked towards a chest near the kitchen area, where she dropped her clutch bag. I’d never been in a place like that, so chic and bohemian, but also homely and full of soul. I searched for the cat but sadly there wasn’t any. As I continued to look around she approached the only full size window and opened it. She stepped outside and I realised it had to be some sort of terrace. I followed her there. It was narrow, just enough for a wooden bench, but the view of the city was spectacular.

Jeanne was resting her knee on the bench and watching down the street with her hands holding the railing. I stood behind her, grabbing her eagerly by the waist. She moaned and leant against me, resting her back on my chest and massaging her hair. Her eyes were wide shut. I ran my hands around her belly and pressed her against me as I glanced at the sight, thousands of dark rooftops. The sun was still high in the sky, warming up the top of our heads. I was resting my mouth on her crown and smelt profusely her hair, shivering because of her intoxicating scent. She turned around smiling and ran her arms to my shoulders to hold my neck. She pushed me inside staring into my eyes.

When we reached the Japanese style bed, oddly placed under the set of windows, we were lost in each other’s eyes and I was cupping her face around my hands. As she began to remove her shirt from her skirt I took a step back to behold her. The sunlight was falling copiously over the bed behind her, creating the same effect with her clothes as previously on the street, near the river. Holding my gaze she unbuttoned it, leaving it completely open over her body, revealing me the soft skin from underneath, between her breasts. I breathed in, gulping from emotion. She carefully untied her skirt, which fell to her feet, around her Oxford shoes, and sat on the bed over her leg, resting her weight in one hand. I leapt on to her, taking my shirt off.

I knelt down in front of her and leant in, capturing her between my arms. I laid her down fixed into her eyes, trapping her under my body. With my motion the unbuttoned shirt slipped and my chest made contact with her breasts. I threw my head back in pleasure, groaning quietly. She lifted her back as I tightly pressed her hips against the bed. She moaned and I brushed her cheek to slide my thumb into her mouth. She bit me as I bent to yearningly kiss her on the lips. My lips reached for her tongue to suck on it and Jeanne contorted in rapture underneath me. I knew my gesture would drive her mad. She mentioned it too much on her writing.