Fake Tan - hs *ON HOLD*

oh god*

He didn't know what to do. Harry knew he couldn't go to bed like this but he knew if he sorted it, it would mean he just wanked off to his stepdaughter.

No one would know, not that he thought about her at every opportunity he could during the day, or how he imagined kissing her before she went to bed or even that he wanted to suck the soft skin of her neck. It would only be him that would feel how badly he wanted to press his bare chest against hers, how he wanted to feel her plump lips around his cock.

Harry already liked her personality, he loved her rainbow jumpers and flared trousers. It looked like she stepped right out of the 70s and he ate it up because he loved her individuality. He smiled whenever he heard her playing Fleetwood Mac or The Beatles on Vinyl and he adored her big chunky boots that almost made her the same height as him.

But now he was attracted to her and that changed things. He focused on her, and his breathing hitched in his throat as he palmed himself through his jeans. They were confining his hard on and in the moment he wanted to burn them.

Harry undid the material and pulled them down his legs, taking his boxers with the jeans, causing his manhood to slap against his stomach and leak precum.

"Fuck." He breathed, the sudden contact of the air around him feeling good against his manhood.

He used his thumb to circle the precum around the head of his cock before he began to pump up and down, spitting in his hand for lubrication. The friction caused him to whimper and his consistent strokes made him harder, if possible.

Holding his long shaft, he let out a low moan and rubbed his thumb over his head again before placing his hand back around his thick base, continuously pulling his hand up and down.

He kept this up and he thought about her. He thought about her head in his lap and the way she looked tonight, dressed up for a party only to return home drunk off of her face because some boy can't see that she isn't one to lose. He was already a prick for making her cry but wow he must be a prick.

The quickening of his breath and heavy balls signalled his climax and before he knew it, his toned stomach tensed, his eyes scrunched together and his mouth hung in the shape of an O as he groaned loudly. Thick ropes of cum painted his stomach and he lay back on his elbows, steadying his breath.

"What the fuck did I just do." He whispered to himself and padded to the bathroom to wipe himself down before sliding into bed, guilt reaching every part of his body. He grabbed his wife's pillow and cuddled up to it, but even that felt wrong. Oh god.

* * *

Isla woke up to possibly the worst headache of her life, and cursed herself for mixing drinks.

"Harry?" She called out. "Do we have any iBuprofen?" She dug her heavy head back into the pillow and groaned at the how loud she had raised how voice.

Her door opened and Harry stepped in, looking as bad as she felt, like he'd had no sleep. And he wouldn't look at her; she didn't do anything wrong last night, did she?

She covered her face with her hands, because she couldn't remember a thing, and that scared her a little.

"Here." Harry handed her 2 small tablets and a glass of water before attempting to exit.

"Thanks, wait! Harry, did I embarrass myself last night or did I say something about the party?" Isla bit her lip and she squirmed around as silence filled the air; that wasn't a good sign.

She threw a pillow. "Harry?"

Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't know whether to mention Theo and her crying over him. He really couldn't look at her, it felt so wrong.