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A Fortuitous Arrangement Chapter 10 (Old Chapter Unlocked For All Patrons!)
🕑 Added 2024-07-06 14:20:01 +0000 UTCContent Warnings: Costumes (Quidditch Cheerleader), Semi-Public, Mutual Voyeurism.
Harry slowly made his way down the deserted hallway to his apartment. He glanced at the staircase as he passed it, suddenly glad that he wasn’t living in Gryffindor Tower anymore. He wasn’t in a condition to go up there and he certainly wasn’t ready for the inevitable questions from his friends.
All he wanted was a soft bed and his wife’s gentle arms and tender kisses.
He groaned as he rotated his arm to stop the drops of blood oozing out of his wounds from dripping onto the stone floor. He pushed the Marauder’s Map in his bag and cradled his injured arm with his free hand. The throbbing receded to manageable levels and he sighed.
He managed to make it to the portrait of Sir Cadogan without running into anyone else. The pompous knight hopped off his horse and did his usual thing, raising his sword and pointing it at Harry to challenge him.
“You shall… you are injured, young man!” Cadogan exclaimed, changing tracks mid-sentence.
“Yep. Can’t duel you tonight either, Sir Cadogan,” Harry said with a small smile. He held up his hand and continued, “It would not be a fair fight.”
“I only partake in fair fights. We shall duel some other day,” Cadogan said, puffing out his chest imperiously. “How were you injured, young man? A duel?”
“Something like that. I lost,” Harry admitted ruefully.
“That simply cannot stand! You live under my protection! Your honor is my honor. You cannot lose a duel,” Cadogan muttered, stomping around in his portrait. His horse neighed and looked at his slightly crazed master with concern. “I shall teach you so this does not happen again.”
“Some other day, Sir Cadogan,” Harry muttered with a tired sigh. “For now, all I want is my wife.”
“Ah, the touch of a beautiful woman.” Cadogan nodded approvingly. “It has healed many an affliction.”
Harry stepped through the door once Cadogan swung his portrait outward. Their apartment was beginning to resemble a proper house more and more with each passing day. Susan had taken advantage of the secret tunnels marked in the Marauder’s Map for daily shopping trips to Hogsmeade and now their sofas had throw cushions and their drawers had cutlery, among other things.
His eyes flickered to the empty living room before his attention was drawn to the conversation in the kitchen. Susan and Daphne were seated on the high chairs arranged around the dining table. They were both nursing half-empty cups of coffee. Daphne had abandoned hers but Susan occasionally pulled her cup up to her lips for a small sip.
“Seriously?” Daphne pointed to the open Witch Weekly between them. “You’re telling me you think Celestina-”
“Harry!” Susan jumped off her chair the moment she spotted her husband, cutting Daphne off mid-sentence. She paused after a couple of steps, her smile morphing into a frown when she noticed him cradling his right arm.
“What happened?! Did you hurt yourself on the way back? Is that why you’re late?”
“Kinda.” Harry shuffled nervously on his feet. He wasn’t going to lie to Susan, but he didn’t want to tell her what had happened, especially in front of Daphne. For some inexplicable reason, the Slytherin’s opinion mattered to him. She respected strength. Getting his hand carved up by that pink toad didn’t exactly project strength.
“I’m going to go take a shower and go to bed. It’s been a long day. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”
“Nonsense. Sit down. I’m going to grab the first-aid kit from our bedroom.”
“Susie I’m-”
“Sit down.” Susan glared at Harry, hands on her hips.
Daphne chuckled at the sight in front of her. Susan was a full head shorter than Harry, with wisps of her red hair tickling his chin. Her soft curves were no match for Harry’s lean, muscular body but if Daphne had to choose one person to fight, she would have picked Harry without hesitation.
No one in their right mind would have disobeyed the wrathful domestic goddess in front of them.
Daphne sighed and pulled out her wand when Harry opened his mouth to argue.
“Potter, she’s already as red as a tomato. You either sit down before she bursts a vein or I’ll stun you so she can do what she needs to do,” Daphne warned, carelessly twirling her wand between her fingers.
Harry sighed and walked over to a chair. He pulled it away from the table and flopped on it, only unbuttoning the sleeve of his shirt once Susan left to fetch the first-aid kit.
“So,” Daphne said, turning around and studying Harry’s bloodied sleeve with curiosity. “She tortured you. Expected but unacceptable.”
“How do you know-”
Daphne gave Harry a look that asked him not to insult her intelligence.
“Yep. I have another month of these to get through. Doubt she’ll have me do something different next time.”
“A normal person would be upset about the fact that they had something literally carved into their flesh as punishment for speaking up in class,” Daphne said, glancing at Harry’s arm.
“I’m not a normal person.” Harry shrugged and resumed his efforts but the sleeve wouldn’t roll up far enough to reveal his entire wound.
“I’m beginning to understand that. Real bravery is in having good self-preservation instincts.” Daphne got up from her chair and walked around the table to stand behind Harry. “You’ll understand that one day.”
“You mean run away from things,” Harry muttered moodily. He had spent the last hour being forced to carve words into his flesh and was in no mood for a lecture. “If you’re here to lecture me you know where the door is. I know my responsibilities very well, alright?”
“Would you say that your biggest responsibility involves keeping Susan and Hermione safe?”
“Yes,” Harry answered without thinking.
“Then, Lord Potter… answer me this.” Daphne’s voice was polite and measured as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck. Even so, the tone somehow made Harry feel like he was a schoolboy caught doing something wrong and would now be punished by the headmistress. “How will you do that if you’re not around? You can take care of them only if you take care of yourself,” Daphne murmured. She toyed with the top button of his shirt, clearly thinking about something.
“Get up,” she said suddenly. “I have to see you without your shirt.”
“At least buy me dinner first,” Harry teased with a crooked smile.
Daphne rolled her eyes but Harry was glad to see a light dusting of pink on her alabaster cheeks.
“I need to see what she did to you, Potter. And Susan will need access to the entire wound. Either she undresses you or I do, it makes no difference in the end.”
“She’s my wife.”
“And I’m your friend. I’m not asking to see your dick, Potter.” Daphne tugged on his shirt. “I don’t recall you being this shy when you were copping a feel of my boobs.”
“I WASN’T-” Harry started heatedly, only to give up when he saw the smirk on Daphne’s face. He pushed the chair away from the table and got up, turning around to face Daphne. He tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps but was prevented from turning around by Daphne’s grip on his collar.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m seducing your husband,” Daphne replied without a hint of humor in her voice.
“Oh, good. Just make sure you give him back to me in a couple of hours. He gets cranky if he’s not in bed by eleven,” Susan said just as seriously. She set the heavy first-aid box on the table, flipped open the lid, and began rummaging through its contents.
“Good?!” Harry choked.
“Daphne can have the achy thighs and the limp for a change babe,” Susan replied with a giggle. “I’m tired of people asking me if I’ve taken up flying.”
“Oh, the only way he gets to give me achy thighs is if he goes down on one knee with a very expensive ring,” Daphne said. Her nimble fingers quickly unbuttoned Harry’s shirt. She pulled it down his arms, her smile morphing into a frown when she heard his pained hiss. “I’m the heir to the Greengrass name, Potter. I have standards.” She forced a smile onto her face as she tried to distract him from his still bleeding wound but couldn’t help the worried expression on her face.
“We didn’t do anything before marriage either,” Susan admitted as she laid out bandages and carefully set the tiny vial of dittany on the table.
“Yeah, but you two got married in a week. That’s not a proper courtship. Half the people at every party I went to over the summer thought you knocked her up, Potter.”
“I’m not pregnant!”
“Not from lack of trying,” Harry added bashfully.
“Harry!” Susan hissed, her face as red as a tomato. “Daphne doesn’t need to know about that.”
Daphne quirked an eyebrow. “Do you have a pregnancy clause in your marriage contract?”
“How did you know?!”
“I live and breathe Pureblood etiquette, Potter. Makes sense though, can’t have the Bones line going extinct. We don’t want Fudge deciding who’ll fill that seat.”
“You don’t like Fudge? I thought Purebloods loved him.”
“Some do,” Daphne nodded. “The ones with brains don’t.” She leaned across from Harry to look at Susan. “Do you want a baby?”
Susan nodded shyly.
“Well, he’s all yours.” Daphne patted Harry’s bare chest and stepped away from him. Her gray eyes lingered on the scars littering the tanned skin of his firm chest.
“Susie, I promise I’m fine-”
“Daphne.”
Daphne lazily raised her wand. “Stu-”
“Alright. ALRIGHT!” Harry threw his hands up in surrender. He sat on the chair closest to Susan and rested his right on the table, slowly turning it so she could take a closer look at what Umbridge had done to him.
“Harry, what is this?” Susan asked in a horrified whisper. She reached out with a trembling hand and traced the edges of the jagged letters carved into Harry’s arm.
“It’s nothing. I can barely even feel it,” Harry lied. He clenched his left fist under the table, digging his fingernails into his palm to distract himself.
“It has to be a blood quill,” Daphne murmured, sounding both fascinated and disturbed. “I wonder where she got her hands on one. To use something so venerated for a task this crude…” Daphne shook her head. “Never mind that. Can’t expect one of the Novus Sanguinis to respect tradition. But why didn’t you do anything?”
“What could I do?”
Daphne was so stunned that she stared at Harry wordlessly for a few seconds. “Are you out of your mind, Potter?!” she asked, finally finding her voice.
“Daphne,” Susan said in a low growl, shooting a warning glare at her friend.
“You can’t seriously be taking his side in this.”
“I’m not,” Susan sighed. “But there’s a time and a place for everything.”
“It was detention!” Harry exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his chair when Susan gently dabbed dittany on his wound. “Ouch!”
“I thought you said it didn’t hurt.”
“Daphne!” Susan snapped. “You two will not fight when you’re under my roof. Is that understood?”
“Fine.” Daphne leaned back in her chair with a huff and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Yes ma’am,” Harry said with a slight smile. “You’re cute when you’re bossy,” he whispered, bumping his knee against hers.
“Oh no, mister,” Susan growled, sounding on the verge of tears. She kept her gaze on the wound, concentrating on caring for it. She carefully cleaned each letter carved into her husband’s skin, all while seething with rage. “You’re not out of the doghouse yet. How could you let her do this to you?”
“It was detention. What was I supposed to do?”
“There’s a difference between punishment and torture, Potter. I doubt getting ‘I must know my place’ carved into your arm is on the list of approved detention punishments,” Daphne muttered.
“What was I supposed to do?” Harry asked again. “It’s Umbridge,” Harry hissed, flinching as Susan applied a final layer of dittany on his arm. He watched her gather up the bloody cotton balls and walk to the kitchen to discard them. “She’s upset,” Harry whispered to Daphne, frowning at the sight of Susan dabbing at the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.
“You think?” Daphne whispered back sarcastically. “Her husband is being tortured by someone. I’d have thought that’d make her the happiest woman in the world. She loves you even though you’re the world’s biggest idiot and I doubt she likes that you’re in pain, Potter.”
“I’m fine,” Susan growled, shutting the cabinet that housed the dustbin with a loud BANG. “And I can hear both of you.”
“Susan, everyone has told us to keep our heads down around Umbridge. It’s just three more detentions. I can get through it,” Harry said softly.
“Keeping your head down and letting yourself get tortured are very two different things Harry,” Susan whispered, hiccuping as she tried to stop the tears streaming down her face. She sat down and began to bandage his arm. “How could you let her carve something so vile on your arm?”
“I think it’s a great message. I’d implement it, personally.”
Susan whipped her head around and stared at Daphne with a glare that would have put the fear of god into Merlin himself.
“Hear me out,” Daphne said, completely unphased. “She wants you to remember your place? I think that’s good advice.”
“I’m her student,” Harry muttered with a frown. “She wanted to remind me she holds all the power here.”
He sighed and leaned onto the table once Susan had finished bandaging his arm. The initial sting of the dittany had subsided and the potion began to do its work, soothing his nerves. There was no healing a cursed wound immediately but the dittany would ensure he wasn’t in pain for the remainder of the week.
“Harry, why were you in detention in the first place?” Daphne asked, deciding to go for a different approach.
“You saw how she was talking to Hermione!”
“And you couldn’t let her insult your best friend and get away with it. So you insulted your professor and undermined her authority,” Daphne pointed out with a shrewd smile. “Who held the power there, her or you?”
“I-”
“You should have seen that classroom, Susan. Everyone with half a brain was in awe of your silly husband. He was powerful, strong… he acted like the leader he’s meant to be.” Daphne picked up her mug of coffee and drained the tepid liquid in a single gulp. “She wants you to remember your place? Do it. You’re the Boy-Who-Lived. You are Lord Potter and Lord Black. There’s only one powerful person in that classroom and it’s not her.”
“I don’t know how to use that. Before this summer I didn’t even know I held those titles,” Harry admitted.
“Well then, I guess you’re lucky your wife is a Bones, your friend is a Greengrass, and your best friend is someone who probably knows more about the Wizengamot than all of us combined,” Daphne pointed out with a smirk. “They can teach you.”
“I don’t know a lot about how the Wizengamot works,” Susan admitted sheepishly. “I was never interested in any of that stuff. I planned to just nominate Harry as my proxy when the seat passed to me.”
“That’s okay, sweetie. I’ll teach him.” Daphne reached out and squeezed Susan’s hand. “Why don’t you go put on what we ordered from the catalog? I saw the owl delivering the package at breakfast.”
“Now?!” Susan squeaked, her tear-stained cheeks turning maroon.
“He’s had a shite day, I’m sure he’d appreciate the distraction,” Daphne said with a smile.
Susan nodded shyly and scampered out of the room without another word.
“She’s adorable,” Daphne said fondly. Her smile disappeared when she turned to look at Harry. “Take care of her or I’ll carve your heart out with a dull butter knife.”
“I will.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Are you trying to say I don’t care about my wife?” Harry growled. He banged his hand on the table angrily, immediately regretting his decision when a current of pain radiated from his injured arm and shot up his spine.
“What happened?” Susan shouted from the bedroom.
“Harry tried to squish a bug!” Daphne lied smoothly. She glanced at Harry massaging his bandaged arm, shaking her head at his impulsiveness. “The things you could do if you channeled all that anger and determination in the right direction…” Daphne trailed off with a sigh. “I said you won’t be able to take care of your wife, not that you don’t care about her. Words matter, Harry. Pay attention to what the other person is saying. Not all of them will be as direct as me.”
“Daphne you-”
“I’m not done.” Daphne held up a finger to silence him. “What would you have done if Susan was in that chair instead of you? How would you have reacted if Umbridge had given Hermione detention as well?” Daphne asked with a raised eyebrow.
Harry stared at Daphne, too stunned to speak. He couldn’t… he wouldn’t… he refused to imagine a world where Susan had to suffer the same pain he had.
“It’s just a matter of time. Do you think she’ll stop with you? What if she wants to torture you some more? What if she just gets bored? Maybe one day she’ll decide to move on to your partner and friends.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Harry growled.
“How? How will you stop it?” Daphne asked with a smile, knowing Harry had finally walked into her trap.
“I… I don’t know.”
“By the time she targets Susan or your friends it’ll be too late for you to learn,” Daphne said, her voice softening. “Look, you’re protecting your loved ones by protecting yourself. You can only keep them safe if you’re in a condition to do so.”
Harry nodded slowly.
“Good talk.” Daphne reached out and patted Harry’s uninjured arm. “Maybe you’re not as hopeless as I feared.”
“Can I come out?” Susan asked through the half-ajar bedroom door.
“Please do. I want to see how it fits you!”
Harry turned in his seat just in time to see the door open. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when Susan shyly strutted out of the room, walking as slowly as was humanly possible to make sure she kept her balance.
Her red hair was secured with bright yellow hair ties into two pigtails. She had put on just a hint of makeup, applying a coat of maroon lipstick and subtle eyeliner. She carried red and gold pom-poms in her hands.
Harry gulped as his gaze lowered to her body. Her blouse was so tight that it clung to her curves like a second skin. Her bosom strained against the fabric, threatening to rip it apart. The blouse ended just below her breasts, leaving her flat midriff bare. The skirt, like the blouse, was red with gold highlights. It was the shortest skirt Harry had ever seen. The shiny fabric barely covered the curve of her ass and if Susan bent they’d have a clear view of her firm, round cheeks. Her legs were covered by red stockings and she completed her look with crystal high heels.
“She wanted to get the sexy Quidditch player costume but I thought it was more fitting. The cute cheerleading captain falls for the hotshot Quidditch captain. A love story right out of a romance book,” Daphne teased, chuckling when both Harry and Susan blushed.
“I don’t have the body of a cheerleader.”
“Nonsense. You walk around in that and this castle will be drowning in semen by the end of the day.”
“Daphne!” Susan squeaked, blushing wildly.
“Nobody else is ever going to see her in that,” Harry growled possessively.
“Possessive, are we?”
“Very,” Susan answered with a happy giggle.
“That’s my cue. I’m going to leave before your jealous husband hexes me for daring to gaze upon the forbidden fruit,” Daphne smirked. Her gaze lingered on Harry’s bare chest for a few seconds before she got up and walked out of the apartment, making sure to shut the door behind her.
“Daphne is a menace,” Harry said hoarsely, finally finding his voice.
Susan giggled and nodded.
“Are you alright?” Susan asked when Harry stayed seated.
“Mhm.”
“Do you not like it? I told Daphne you’d prefer the Quidditch one,” Susan murmured, morosely poking her tight blouse.
“I love it, Susan,” Harry whispered. He cleared his throat and slowly pushed his chair away from the table and got to his feet.
Susan’s eyes immediately flickered to the impressive erection in his pants. His manhood seemed larger than usual, which was saying something.
“Is that a broomstick in your pocket, my lord,” Susan whispered coyly. She stepped forward and pressed a finger against his firm chest. “Or are you just happy to see me?”
“Do you want to go for a ride, Mrs. Potter?”
“Later.” Susan glanced at the clock. “You have Quidditch trials to attend. Ron will be waiting for you.”
“I’m already on the team. I don’t have to go!”
“You need to be there to support your best friend, sir.”
Harry groaned as Susan pulled away from him.
“He’ll understand,” Harry muttered with a pout, his gaze fixed on his wife’s impressive bust.
Susan raised an eyebrow.
“Fine. He won’t,” Harry sighed. “You’re being wicked, wife. Why’d you put this on if you knew I had to leave?”
“Daphne wanted to see it. I wanted to make her happy.”
“And now you want to make Ron happy.”
“He just wants his best friend to make some time for him.”
“You want everyone to be happy,” Harry said with a fond smile. “What about yourself?”
“I’m not going anywhere and neither is this costume. We have the entire weekend to ourselves. Everyone can have tiny bits of happiness from you but in the end, you come home to me.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Susan smiled and closed the distance between them to peck his lips. She shrieked when he wrapped his arms around her waist and quickly twisted free of his grasp.
“After practice!” she yelled, running into the spare room of their apartment and shutting the door behind her.
Harry sighed when he heard the click of the lock. He walked to their bedroom and stripped his remaining clothing, changing into his Quidditch uniform before grabbing his Firebolt. His baggy pants hid most of the evidence created by Susan’s teasing.
“Practice first,” he muttered reluctantly, glancing at his crotch as he carried his broomstick out of the apartment.
---
Susan waited until everyone had left the changing room before dropping the Invisibility Cloak.
She struck a pose and raised her right hand into the air, shaking the pom pom she was holding.
“Who’s the greatest, who’s the best? It’s P-O-T-T-E-R… Harrrrrry Potter!” Susan chanted, breaking out into an improvised routine.
Harry had turned around at the sound of the pom-pom and watched her dance with mesmerized eyes. He waited until she was done and had struck the final pose before striding over to her and capturing her lips in a bruising kiss.
He pushed his hands under the curve of her ass, lifting her with ease. His tongue swiped against her lips until she parted them and granted him entry. He claimed her mouth as he carried her to the wall, setting her down on one of the shelves meant for broomsticks.
“There’s a tiny mistake in your costume,” Harry gasped when he finally pulled away for air. A thin trail of drool connected his lips to her swollen ones and he stayed close enough to ensure that the connection wasn’t terminated.
“Is there?” Susan asked with a quiet moan. She pushed her thick thighs together and began to rub them, desperate for stimulation.
“It says Bones.” Harry grabbed the edges of her tight blouse and ripped the thin fabric apart. “What should it say?” he asked, dropping the two pieces of the ruined shirt onto the floor.
“Potter, sir,” Susan mewled with pink cheeks.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You, master!” Susan gasped as Harry grabbed her knees and roughly pulled her legs apart.
Harry pulled out her wand from the waistband of her skirt and held it out for her.
“Undress me.”
With a few quick flicks from her wand, Susan had her husband naked. The neatly folded pile of clothes zoomed through the air and dropped onto an empty bench.
“No bra, no underwear?” Harry asked, pushing his left hand between Susan’s thighs. He rested his palm flat against her slick folds. Susan moaned and bucked her hips in a futile attempt to get his thick, calloused fingers inside her needy pussy.
“I took them off before I came here, sir,” Susan admitted shyly. She groaned when Harry pulled his hand away and bucked her hips again. She looked up at him with big blue eyes, silently begging him to claim her.
“You little tease,” Harry growled. Instead of closing the distance between them, he grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her soft skin. He dragged her across the shelf until she was safely in his arms. His cock pushed between Susan’s parted legs and rubbed against the inside of her thigh. The arousal leaking out of her quickly coated his entire length, his cock gleaming in the dim candlelight illuminating the room.
Susan quickly wrapped her legs around Harry’s waist, her heels digging into his muscular thighs. She gasped as the sudden closeness pushed the thick head of his cock against her slick lips, parting them. Just his tip inside her was making her feel faint but her attempt to buck her hips to get more of him inside her was stopped by Harry’s grip on her hips.
Harry carried her off the shelf and to a bench in the middle of the room, setting her down on it and flipping her around before she could react. He wrapped her pigtails around his hands and tugged on them to pull her flush against his firm chest.
“Who’s the greatest, who’s the best?” Harry asked breathlessly.
“Haaaaary… POTTER,” Susan shrieked. Harry’s massive girth impaled her with one firm thrust, pushing past the measly resistance offered by her fluttering walls with ease.
Harry wrapped one hand around her throat to keep her pinned against his chest. He smiled when her gaze lowered to his injured arm when he pushed it between her parted legs.
“It’s fine, Susie. Doesn’t hurt. How do you feel?” Harry asked breathlessly.
“Great,” Susan replied with a dreamy giggle. She gasped when Harry pulled out of her. Her walls fluttered violently, almost as if her body was objecting to his absence. She needed him inside her, filling her up, giving her his seed…
Harry began to rock his hips, slowly at first but quickly picking up speed. Within seconds he was hammering in and out of her. The sound of his grunts and her needy mewls filled the room as his length pulled out of her, only to disappear into her slick folds as he slammed into her. His fingers toyed with her clit. The gentle massage drove the poor redhead wild and she trembled in Harry’s arms, her moans growing increasingly desperate.
Harry’s gaze was fixed on Susan’s impressive bust, his eyes following the hypnotic swaying of her creamy breasts as they bounced with each thrust.
Neither of them noticed Hermione slip into the room, nor did they hear the greeting that died in her throat at the sight in front of her.
Hermione knew she should have left the minute she laid her eyes on the intertwined couple. She should have slipped out of the room before they noticed her, leaving them none the wiser.
But her feet stayed rooted in place and her body refused to obey the frantic commands of her mind. The sight in front of her awakened something deep inside her.
Her big brown eyes widened as she watched Harry’s muscular body easily envelope Susan’s shorter one. Her gaze lowered and she licked her lips as she stared unashamedly at Susan’s glorious bosom, following the swaying of her breasts with her eyes. She leaned forward subconsciously, suddenly consumed with a desire to take one of her stiff pink nipples between her lips. Her legs pushed together and she began to rub her thighs.
“Who do you belong to?” Harry growled, pinching Susan’s clit.
“YOU!” Susan screamed, her vision growing blurry. Her thighs trembled as the coil of tension in her belly tightened even further, heralding her imminent orgasm.
“You,” Hermione whispered, echoing Susan’s answer.
She had read about being fucked silly, but she finally understood what it meant when she lifted her gaze to Susan’s parted lips and lolling tongue. She froze when she looked up and saw pale blue eyes fixed on her, realizing that Susan was aware of her presence. She slowly lifted her head and saw that Harry was looking at her as well, his bright green eyes darkened with lust.
Their eyes finally locked just as Harry erupted inside Susan with a roar. Hermione tore her gaze away from Harry’s dangerously beautiful eyes at the last moment and watched Susan’s flat belly develop the tiniest of bulges as she was filled to the brim with Harry’s seed. Thick trails and droplets of cum leaked out of Susan’s parted lips, intermingling with her arousal as it streamed down her thighs.
Susan tumbled over the edge within seconds, moaning wantonly and arching her back to push out her heavy breasts.
Hermione followed soon after, her very first orgasm causing her to drop to her knees. Her vision darkened as she collapsed to the ground and the very last thing she saw before she passed out was a muscular and nearly naked Adonis walking over to her and enveloping her in the safety of his arms.
“Did you know she was here?” Harry asked, adjusting the towel around his waist.
“Mhm,” Susan admitted from the bench. Her inhibitions were far too low for her to feel shy about letting Hermione watch them. “Did you?”
“Yeah.” Harry shrugged sheepishly. “Did you mind?”
“No,” Susan said after mulling over the question for a few seconds. “It felt good,” she admitted, a light dusting of pink coating her freckled cheeks. “Does it bother you that she watched us?”
“No,” Harry whispered, looking at the peaceful face of the unconscious girl he was cradling in his arms. “I don’t think it does.”
Notes:
Oh, my. I cannot believe it is getting to be nearly two years since I started writing. I have changed and evolved so much. For one, I can write characters with much greater depth now! I can also write much more expansive plots and enjoy them instead of being stressed by them. I've had a rough few months but we are back and we are back in style! This story is evolving organically, it is one of the few that I have a rough framework for but not a plot that is set in complete stone. This is something of an experiment and I am enjoying it so far!
