Harry Styles Dirty Imagines Novels & Stories

I stayed up until one in the morning, reading more and more since I've already dug up some dirt about him. Benedict Edward Rose Styles. Twenty-five years old. Fuckingly wealthy. He got a headline the day when the world found out he was the first born of Harry Styles from a one night stand. Mr. Harry Styles used to belong to an insanely famous boyband years ago called One Direction, later he turned to be a ridiculously filthy rich businessman. His mother, Miranda Rose Styles, at first kept him in secret for seven years from Harry and the entire world since she wasn't ready to tell everyone about him. Mrs. Styles was also married to her ex-husband Louis Tomlinson which was Harry Styles' best f

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my dress and traced along the edge of my panties, feeling how drenched the thin fabric was. “Poor babygirl,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Your little hole is stuffed so nicely and your pussy is already soaking through these pretty panties. Does it make you feel dirty? Sitting here in your expensive dress, looking so elegant, while you’re secretly clenching around a plug in your ass?” I nodded, my face burning with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. “Yes… it feels so naughty. I keep thinking about what would happen if someone at the event knew…”

He must be important but he is not the man I am here to see. "Yes, sir," I say. I wipe the tears from my face and try to collect myself. I sit, and I wait for what seems like forever. It gives me time to think about my life, my daddy, and what these people plan to do to me. Are they going to kill me? Torture me? Worse? What could be worse? The door swings open, and tall, handsome man in a black suit comes into the room, another man follows him in a black suit also. Both men have long black hair and look well put together, unlike the man who brought me into the room or my driver.

Finally, we collapse, limbs tangled in a knot. Sweat covers us, pussies still twitching. I pull her close. 'This stays secret, Harper. Just us.' She nods, kissing me soft. 'Promise. Our forbidden thing.' We lie there, breathing heavy, bodies pressed tight.

He had dirty blonde hair that faded into brown and grey eyes. He was putting on a blue dress shirt, and just like mine, the first few buttons were undone, showcasing his toned chest. He must work out a lot. He probably wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't lust after minors. "We all had plans to come to this club after school," I continued explaining, hoping to catch his interest with my fake story. "But when it was time, they suddenly had one thing or the other to do. I didn't even get to change into the pretty dress I brought with me."

His sweaty gym shirt got mixed in with the laundry pile and I grabbed it thinking it was mine, but when I pressed it to my face and breathed in, fuck - the raw, musky scent of him slammed into me like a physical force and my knees buckled and my cunt spasmed around nothing and I knew, I fucking knew, I was completely and utterly ruined. I didn't wash it. I hid it under my pillow instead and promised myself I'd return it tomorrow, that this didn't mean anything, that I wasn't really the desperate little freak this made me look like. Now I have a whole collection. Three shirts, two pairs of his worn boxers, even a sock that still reeks of him in the best possible way. It's depraved - I know it

“Same thing.” Kemi seemed to be trying to outdress everyone in the store, and she succeeded. Seeing her in her chic all-white ensemble made me feel very underdressed. The Princeton boutique was studded with women who looked like they had servants for brushing their teeth, but I paid no mind. I thought my jeans trousers, and casual white top fit until Kemi showed up. Now, I will be mistaken for a charity case, which, to be fair, is what I am. She is, after all, paying for my stuff today. I hope.

“You two really couldn’t wait for me, huh? Started the party early.” Julian chuckled darkly, finally easing his thick length out of me with a long, obscene pop. Thick white strands of his cum immediately dripped from my swollen, puffy pussy onto the sheets below. “She’s all warmed up and sloppy for you now, son. Come take your turn. Our dirty little secret just got a whole lot more fun.” Oliver stripped fast, his shirt and shorts hitting the floor in a heap. His cock sprang free, rock-hard and already leaking at the tip, curving upward with eagerness.

Reality crashed back in. I pulled away with a tortured groan, chest heaving. Maya turned around, hair a total mess, lips swollen and shiny, tits still out, nipples glistening from my mouth. Her skirt was hiked up, panties askew, thighs shiny with her own juices. She looked completely wrecked and utterly fuckable. I didn’t say a word. I just tucked my throbbing, unsatisfied cock back into my jeans and walked out of the closet, stepping into the harsh light of the hallway.

My hand slipped between my legs unbidden, fingers circling my clit as I leaned against the tile, imagining him there with me, commanding me to edge without release. But I stopped short, denying myself—saving it for him. "Good girl," I whispered to my reflection, echoing his praise, before toweling off and dressing in yoga pants and a loose sweater to hide the evidence. Makeup covered the hickeys adequately, and I tied my hair in a ponytail, aiming for "casual uni student" rather than "freshly fucked sub."