Young Harry Styles Novels & Stories

My name is Ernest Brandt. I plan on traveling to Zamia with my wife, Bella Ross, to spend our honeymoon together over the holidays. What I don't expect is that Bella's best friend, Celeste Fulton, insists on tagging along. Astonishingly enough, there's only one bedroom with a double bed left in the hotel…

"What's that bulge? It looks different from mine." My eighteen-year-old neighbor, sweet but simple, stared curiously at the place between my legs, a hungry glint in her eyes. I played dumb. "Why don't you show me what yours looks like?" To my surprise, without the slightest hesitation, she suddenly tugged off her little white skirt, revealing a smooth, bare patch of skin. "See? Right here—it's totally flat. There's nothing at all."

I'm at the amusement park with my husband and our daughter when my blouse—still damp from breastfeeding—catches the eye of a father from my daughter's kindergarten class. He secretly takes pictures of me and starts blackmailing me, demanding a taste. My husband and our daughter are close by, but he grows bolder by the minute and orders me to undo his belt.

“No… I can’t… Uh… My body belongs to my husband…” At the gym, I hired a personal trainer to work on my glutes. To make sure I was training my hips right, I wore a pink mini skirt with a hint of my plain white underwear peeking out from underneath. As if I wasn’t sensitive enough, the personal trainer lifted my skirt and pressed against my thighs. I felt a tingling sensation coursing through my body. The personal trainer tugged down my damp underwear. “Are you getting an itch you can’t scratch? Let me help you there.”

I had been wearing Vera out with my constant demands in bed. She finally broke down and ran back to her parents’ house. With our wedding approaching, she warned me, “If you keep being this rough, the wedding’s off.” I had no choice but to call my future mother-in-law, Victoria, and ask her to talk to Vera for me. That evening, Victoria showed up at my place in a sexy dress. Her chest was so full that it looked like it was about to burst out of her dress. “Since Vera can’t satisfy you, I’ll take care of you instead.”

I had been diagnosed with a structural abnormality. The doctor had told me my condition was extremely rare, the kind that had no cure. It was not exactly dangerous. I was just… different from other men in that regard. More intense. Far beyond normal. It had been a constant problem. Every time I brought a woman home, things fell apart the moment clothes started coming off. One look at me, and they panicked and ran like they had seen something they could not handle. My good buddy Gavin Cobb knew how long I had been going without, and he finally decided to help. He told me about a cycling club and suggested I check it out. At first, I did not take it seriously. Riding bikes? What was supposed to be exciting about that? Then he said, "You're underestimating it. The club was full of women. You'd ride up into the mountains at night, and once it was dark, no one could see anything. That was your opportunity. Make them feel good, and they wouldn't push you away. After that, your life would be easy." The idea got to me immediately. I did not think twice. I agreed on the spot.

"Kiara Hart, did you secretly hide some fresh milk? Hand it over now!" My boyfriend's younger brother, Matthew Chambers, pinned me against the wall and ran his hands over me, searching everywhere. He had no idea that the sweet scent was not milk, but...

"Suzanna, tell me the truth. Am I built better than Luis?" I had gotten up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and accidentally caught a glimpse of my husband's coworker, Hank, with his girlfriend. They were tangled up together, without a care in the world about who might see them. I should have walked away. However, my legs did not seem to work anymore. Hank saw me. The next day, he blocked my path outside the bathroom. "Suzanna," he said, his voice low and amused, "you didn't believe me. Maybe I should prove it." Before I could react, he was already pulling down his pants.

In the bedroom, I am being manipulated into various positions. A strange man reaches out toward me and fondles my body roughly with his callused hands. He leans in closer and tells me to relax because it will help release the milk quickly. The man before me is my husband's best friend. He was hired to be my lactation therapist. His hands roam across my waist slowly and pause right at my chest. I can hear him saying in a hoarse voice, "I'm going to start massaging here." I can't help but shudder before closing my eyes tightly.

"I didn't mean to…" All I had done was catch the scent of my classmate's mother's stockings, and that alone was enough for her to drag me into a room and punish me for it. What terrified me even more was this. Somehow, unbelievably, my classmate was about to start calling me Dad.