Cuckolding At Shell Cottage Harry Potter free porn video

The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air. The train rounded a corner. Harry’s hand was still raised in farewell.

“He’ll be all right,” murmured Ginny.

As Harry looked at her, he lowered his hand absentmindedly and touched the lightning scar on his forehead.

“I know he will.”

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

____

… Or, rather, all would soon be well. In a few moments’ time, all would be better than well. It’d be fan—bloody—tastic. He just had to once again give his wife the slip.

Ginny snaked her arm around Harry’s elbow. Her coppery eyebrows wriggled suggestively, as she asked, “Fancy a drink, handsome?”

Harry’s eyes grew wide. Ginny and drinking was never a good combination. If Ginny had been a more mindful witch, she would’ve notice the spark of fear and tinge of revulsion in her husband’s eye. But seeing that Harry used Ginny’s lack of wit to his advantage more often than not, her obliviousness suited him just fine.

“Oh, sorry love,” he said, showing regret over the lost opportunity to spend time with his wife. “But today’s the day I have to pop over to Bill’s house to fix the squeaking garden gate.”

“p*o,” the red-head bemoaned. “Why can’t Bill fix anything? You’re always going over there fixing this or that.”

“You know your brother,” Harry said with a shrug. “He may be a Master Curse Breaker, but he’s pants at simple house-hold charms.”

Harry gave his wife a quick peck on the lips and hugged his daughter, Lily. “I’ll be home after supper.”

“Supper? But it’s just a squeaky gate?” Ginny said.

“This is Fleur we’re talking about,” he said, smiling dashingly. “She’s so pampered that she can’t do anything for herself. Once I fix the gate, Fleur will ask me to fix the broken chair leg and repair the clock over the mantle.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think ‘Phlegm’ was trying to take my husband away from me,” pouted Ginny.

Harry placed another peck on Ginny’s forehead and resisted saying “Of course you don’t know better. Hell, it’d be easier to list the things you DO know” but said instead; “Be nice. She went to Beauxbatons – they don’t teach any practical magic there.”

“You’re right,” her face brightened, clearly cherishing any opportunity to view herself as superior to Fleur.

With that, Harry trotted toward the exit to King’s Cross. As he walked, he waved to Ron and Hermione who were involved in conversation.

“Supper? Why would it take that long to fix a bloody squeaky gate?” asked Ron.

“Ronald, this is Fleur we’re talking about,” Hermione said and then scolded; “And mind your language. Foul words show a lack of self-respect and poor manners.”

Three and a half hours later in Shell Cottage…

Bill Weasley was in a deep, unnatural sleep on a large, squashy chair in front of the fireplace while loud grunts of pleasure and peals of ecstasy came from the master bedroom.

“I’m gonna fucking cum! OH bloodY HELL! I’m gonna fucking cum!” screamed Hermione. “SHAG MY HOT, WET CUNNY!”

Grunting and thrusting, Harry reprimanded; “Foul language—UGH—shows poor manners and dis—AH—respect!”

The bed’s headboard rocked and slammed into the wall with each thrust.

“I said ‘lack of self-respect’,” corrected Hermione. “Now shut the fuck up and pound my pussy with your cock!”

“Oui, fuck her chatte ‘till she cums and screams,” Fleur purred, curling against Hermione’s naked body. The French woman reached up and placed her hand on Harry’s buttocks, giving it a firm squeeze. She then leaned to Hermione and, taking the brunette’s earlobe in her mouth, began to suckle.

A few moments later, Hermione screamed out a string of foul words that would’ve made a sailor blush as her sex flooded and spilled out, soiling the bed-sheets.

As Harry continued to pump into the brunette, Fleur asked; “How much longer ‘till you cum, mon amour?” She brushed a sweat-drenched golden lock off her brow. “Can I have another turn?”

Gritting his teeth, Harry grunted and seized up.

“Plaindre, I wanted your cock again,” the blonde said, smiling demurely.

“I’m not as young as I used to be,” Harry said, breathing heavily.

“Nineteen years ago, you would have fucked Hermione then jumped right on me.”

“Nineteen years ago he did,” Hermione giggled.

“Ah, I remember it like it was yesterday,” mused Harry.

Suddenly, everything went blurry, as if a small waterfall was cascading right before the three lovers’ eyes.

“Merde! What is happening?”

“Don’t worry,” Hermione said calmly to Fleur. “It’s just a flashback. It happens a lot.”

“Oh, I see.”

The three were taken back to that fateful day…

Nineteen Years and a few months earlier in Shell Cottage…

It had started out as an act of kindness and compassion. Fleur had found Harry, just after he buried Dobby in the garden, crying sitting on the couch while his friends were resting in the guest room. The French woman had taken Harry into the master bathroom to wash the caked-on dirt off of his hands. The poor boy looked so sad, so lost. She just wanted to comfort him and show him some compassion. She didn’t intend to kiss him. Not like that. But she couldn’t help herself.

CaSC

Hermione couldn’t sleep. Not because of the torture she had endured a few hours before. It was because Ron was snoring loud enough to rattle the rafters. The brunette chalked his snoring up as another one of his less than desirable habits that she would have to live with.

Throwing the blankets off, Hermione stood and stepped over Luna – who was on the floor sleeping like a baby despite Ron’s snores – and walked out into the living room.

Much to Hermione’s embarrassment, she could hear Fleur moaning loudly from the master bedroom, even with the door closed. Clearly the blonde and her husband were sharing an intimate moment.

A new sensation heightened Hermione’s embarrassment. She found that she rather liked the sound of Fleur’s moans. It had an almost musical quality to it. So much so that a part of Hermione wanted to press her ear to the door so she could listen to her beautiful moans.

To ensure that she wasn’t’ further tempted to listen in on the married couple like some pervert, Hermione briskly walked outside.

“Hello, Hermione, I thought you were resting,” a voice greeted her.

“Bill?” she asked in surprise. The scarred red-head was squatting down, tending to the garden. “What are you doing out here?” she asked lamely.

“Oh, just pulling weeds and the like,” he replied. “After seeing Harry work so hard on that little house-elf’s grave, I was inspired to tidy up the roses and begonias.”

Hermione stared at Bill, still in surprise. She had distinctly heard Fleur moaning in pleasure. Yet here was her husband, not in the bedroom with the French woman.

She looked to the master bedroom’s picturesque window. What she saw shocked her to her core.

CaSC

She wanted to pull away but she could not. As her lips worked on his, Fleur was reminded of the time when she was a small c***d where she had her first taste of honey. The girl couldn’t get enough of it. She had dipped her finger into the jar and licked up dollop after dollop until she licked up the last drop. Now, kissing Harry, she was overcome with the same compulsion. She couldn’t get enough. His lips caused her heart to flutter wildly, ignited a fire in her belly, and made her toes curl.

Harry latched onto that kiss. Opening himself up, he poured all his grief, fear, hope, and happiness into it.

Soon, the kiss grew in intensity. Their teeth sc****d together and they opened their mouths.

The pair hadn’t noticed they had stumbled out of the bathroom and were now standing in front of the large window overlooking the garden as Fleur used her tongue to map out every square centimeter of the insides of Harry’s mouth.

CaSC

At first, Hermione wanted to alert Bill as to the act of infidelity occurring just over his shoulder. But then, Hermione thought of the outcome. The ensuing hell-storm would devour Harry. Bill would scream at and, more likely than not, attack Harry for kissing Fleur. Hermione didn’t want that to happen; not only was Harry her best friend, but the poor young man had just suffered a traumatic ordeal. A verbal and physical attack would only worsen Harry’s plight.

That, and obviously Harry was a good kisser. To try and break that up by warning Bill would be a crime.

The black-haired teen’s skill in kissing was evident from the musical moans Hermione had heard in the house and the rich, ruby flush that glowed on the French woman’s face.

Then Hermione felt her own face heat up. She assumed that it had taken on a similar hue to Fleur’s complexion. The reason for this blush was that Harry had pulled down the woman’s top, revealing her spectacular breasts.

CaSC

Fleur moaned even louder into Harry’s mouth when he squeezed her now naked breast. His calloused hands felt so wonderful on her sensitive skin.

Her hard, erect nub tickled his palm as Harry used his free hand to push her robes even further down.

Now that her robe had been dealt with, Harry’s free hand moved to her knickers. The heat coming from her sex warmed his hand.

CaSC

Hermione had to admit that Fleur had spectacular breasts. They weren’t small, but they weren’t large enough to be referred to as “jugs” either. They were a nice handful… or at least a handful for Harry’s large mitts. The woman had nearly perfectly round areoles and large nipples that, conceivably, could hold a coat hanger.

Hermione was allowed a closer inspection of Fleur’s breast when Harry turned the blonde toward the window and pushed her bosom onto the glass.

“Oh my,” murmured Hermione, observing the French woman’s tits intently.

Fleur’s mouth opened and Hermione could almost hear her lovely groan as Harry kissed and nibbled on her neck from behind.

She was so wrapped up in the show that Hermione had not noticed she was slowly running her own hands sensually over her breasts.

CaSC

Fleur pushed away from the glass and turned to face the young man. Nature and the fire burning within her demanded more. She pushed her hand down the front of his trousers, intent on grabbing his manhood. When her fingers wrapped around the target, Fleur’s eyes narrowed.

“Impossible,” she muttered. It couldn’t be; she didn’t consider herself that lucky.

In one deft tug, she pulled Harry’s hardening meat out. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

“Merde!”

CaSC

“That’s why he’s always wearing baggy trousers,” commented Hermione absentmindedly.

CaSC

“Merde!” repeated Fleur in awe.

To call the thing in her hand a penis would be an insult. It would be like calling the Mona Lisa a c***d’s doodle. She had never before seen anything like it.

And it was still growing.

CaSC

Just looking at the length, girth, and luscious curve of Harry’s manhood made Hermione tingle in interesting areas.

CaSC

“Merde!”

“You know, there are better things you can do with your mouth than saying ‘merde’ over and over,” Harry said.

Fleur smiled at him. She continued to smile as she lowered herself to her knees.

CaSC

Standing and brushing the dirt from his hands, Bill said; “Well, I’m done for the night.” Thankfully, when he stood, his back was to the window.

“What?” gasped Hermione, looking over Bill’s shoulder. Fleur was presently wrapping her full, red lips around Harry’s fat, purple crown, seemingly unaware that her husband was standing just a few feet away.

“I’ve worked hard enough,” he said, taking pride in a job well done.

When Hermione saw Fleur and Harry kissing, she was concerned that Bill would get physically violent. Now that Fleur was kissing Harry in a “different” way, Hermione was now positive that Bill would resort to v******e.

“You’re not done,” the brunette said. She tried to look Bill in the eye, but the sight of Fleur bobbing on Harry’s remarkable sex held her captivated.

“Where else needs work?” the scarred wizard asked. He turned slowly, looking at the plants and flowers. He was about to look at the flowers growing just beneath the master bedroom window when Hermione cried out: “NO!”

She grabbed Bill by the shoulders and turned him so he faced the patch of roses growing on the opposite side of the house. “Those roses have thorns on them!’

“Of course they do. It’s a rose bush.”

“But what if your incredibly hot wife comes out here and tries to pick one?” she asked. Hermione watched as the incredibly hot wife in question took a few more inches of Harry’s rod into her mouth. “Why she could easily cock her hand—”

She blanched. “… err… I meant prick. You don’t want her to prick her hand on one of those thorns!”

Laughing nervously, she babbled; “I don’t know why I said cock instead of prick.”

Of course the reason for her Freudian slip was currently being sucked and licked by Fleur on the other side of the window.

“I suppose you’re right,” Bill said, eyeing the thorny rose bush that dared to threaten his wife’s delicate hands. Squaring his shoulders, Bill set off to end that threat.

As Bill stomped toward the rosebush, Hermione silently cast a Compulsion Charm on the plant, ensuring that he would trim every single thorn off. To make sure the wizard was occupied for some time, she a cast similar charm on a Hawthorn tree fifty yards away from the house. By Hermione’s estimation, Bill would be cutting thorns and other sharp protrusions for the next three hours.

Now that Bill was out of the way, it was time to take care of her needs. And Hermione knew instinctively that Ron was not the one to help her to that end.

CaSC

When Hermione stormed into the master bedroom, slamming the door behind her, Harry expected that he was about to get a good smack across the face from his best friend. He was pleasantly surprised when Hermione ripped off her blouse. Seeing a pair of naked breasts was always better than a slap.

He was even more pleasantly surprised when the brunette rushed up to him and kissed him passionately.

A part of Harry was confused. As far as he knew, Hermione was (inexplicably) attracted to Ron. And he was concerned as well for he thought of Hermione as like a sister. Although this same currently confused part had to admit that he really liked the way his “like a sister’s” titties felt pressed against his chest along with the way her tongue felt in his mouth. Of course these concerns only occupied a small, miniscule portion of his mind. The rest of his thoughts consisted solely of the words “boobies,” “blowjobs,” and “yippee!” But even these thoughts vanished like a vapor in a strong wind when Hermione pulled away, bent over, and, grabbing Fleur by the back of her head to hold her in place, promptly shoved her tongue down the blonde woman’s throat. If one could somehow listen to the sounds in Harry’s mind at that moment, it would’ve sounded like a wind howling and whistling over a barren desert.

Hermione knelt to join Fleur. Putting their faces close together and while Fleur held the base of his organ, the two women began rolling their tongues around his spongy head. On every pass, their tongues would brush together.

A great dollop of pre-cum poured from his organ. Fleur caught the sticky treat on the tip of her tongue. The blonde moaned, happily enjoying the warm fluid. Not wanting to miss out, Hermione abandoned Harry’s rod and pushed her tongue into Fleur’s mouth. Now both women groaned as they swapped the small amount of Harry’s discharge from one to the other.

Being forced to live with the Dursleys, the ridicule he endured his second year when everyone had thought he was Slytherin’s heir, discovering the truth of his parents’ betrayal in his third, witnessing Cedric’s murder at the Tri-Wizard, his persecution during his fifth year, Sirius, Dumbledore, and Dobby’s murders were all made up for in that one moment. The universe gave compensation to Harry for all the pain and suffering the young man had endured by having two nubile women share his pre-cum.

“All right, everyone; hop on the bed!” he ordered. Harry would’ve been content to have them suck and lick him until he came. But the pride and bragging rights of shagging two beautiful women at the same time compelled the young man to forge ahead.

Fleur jumped onto her back on the bed while Hermione discarded her skirt and crawled on top of the blonde, straddling her. The two women kissed as Harry took his position between Fleur’s legs. He took a moment to marvel at the sight before him; the blonde’s knickers were saturated with her arousal. The scent of her filled his nose and made him light headed. Looking up slightly, Harry saw that Hermione’s knickers were just as damp. The dark patch of wetness in the cotton garment grew and stretched out before his eyes. His cock twitched, imploring him to rip off their knickers and plow into them. But his desire to hear the women cry out in passion, to bring them to the heights of ecstasy and the pride that would come with it gave Harry the strength not to cave to his blind physical desire.

Hooking his fingers around the waistband of Fleur’s knickers, Harry slowly pulled them down. He peeled the garment away from her sex, the wet fabric clung to her tender skin. After pulling the knickers down and off her legs, Harry tossed the damp garment over his shoulder, banishing it from his sight, and examined her glistening womanhood. Experimenting, Harry breathed heavily on her naked sex. Her fine, silvery blonde hairs rustled and she let out a low, throaty moan. Continuing his experiment, Harry pursed his lips and blew directly on her engorged clitoris. This drew a response from the French woman.

“Enough of the blowing! It’s time to start eating me out, Harry!”

Licking his lips, Harry dove in and began licking hers. Her sweet, musky flavor caused his organ to twitch in anticipation.

While Hermione hungrily nuzzled her ear, Fleur said; “A bit more pressure, mon amour.”

Having never done this, Harry gladly accepted her directions.

“That’s it! Now a little to the lef—MON DIEU!” Having found the spot, she began to moan so loudly that it echoed off the walls.

Harry’s efforts caused Fleur to flow even more which led to him lapping up her tasty juices with more gusto.

Fearful that the blonde’s passionate groans might drown out Ron’s snore and wake either the slumbering red-head or Luna, Hermione sealed her lips over Fleur’s mouth. This made Fleur moan and flow even more. Which gave Harry more of the savory treat.

Lifting his hand up, Harry blindly fumbled around Hermione’s thighs until he found her cloth covered labia. Pressing his thumb into her folds, he began to rub and massage his best friend’s womanhood. In a short matter of time, Hermione’s wetness had seeped through her knickers and coated his thumb. Her warm release trickled into his palm.

Letting the moment claim them, both women started to gyrate. Fleur rubbed herself into Harry’s face while Hermione ground hers into his thumb, voicelessly pleading for more. Their breasts mashed together, forcing their nipples into one another’s skin.

Their heat warmed his hand and face as Harry redoubled his efforts. Fleur’s juices flowed down his chin while Hermione’s dripped from his palm, landing on his nose.

“Damn, you girls get wet,” Harry said smiling.

“Don’t stop,” Hermione urged.

“Oui, J’en veux plus.”

“I have no idea what you said, but damn it sounded good,” Harry said to Fleur before diving between her legs.

Rubbing Hermione with one hand, Harry used the fingers from his free hand to gently pry Fleur open. His tongue ran along the insides of her pink walls and the blonde yelped and her legs bucked. Twirling his tongue in her, Fleur flexed her toes and grabbed fistful of the sheets. If Hermione had not clamped down on her mouth, Fleur would’ve certainly screamed out passionately. Harry pushed his tongue deeper, pressing his lips and nose into her folds and clit. She began crying into Hermione’s mouth “Mama” and “Merde” rapidly, over and over.

Harry felt her quiver around his tongue. Her heat spiked, making his whole mouth tingle with warmth. A pulse rocked Fleur’s body. Her hips bucked, she clamped her thighs around his head, hard, and screamed into Hermione’s mouth.

Now that Fleur had climaxed, Harry focused on Hermione. After all, it would be rude to make one woman cum and not the other. He rubbed her labia and brought his mouth up to her cloth covered mound. The action Harry performed next allowed Hermione to repay Fleur for screaming into her mouth: the man sc****d his teeth against her bud. The painful sensation combined with the constant massaging was enough to push the brunette over the edge. Like Fleur, Hermione bucked and her legs gave out, causing her to topple onto the French woman.

Pulling away from Fleur’s lips, Hermione breathed; “Wow, that was…” The bookish woman was at a loss for words. “That was just wow!”

She licked her lips, severing the thick string of spit that connected her mouth to Fleur’s.

“My turn,” Harry said in a growl.

Fleur flipped over and pulled her knees under her, raising her bottom into the air and presenting herself to the man behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she said; “Fuck me like a dog.”

“It’s always polite to do what the lady wants,” he said. Taking hold of his manhood, Harry began to position himself to fulfill both his and Fleur’s desires.

“Wait, Fleur’s too loud. She’ll draw attention. We’ll have to…” Hermione paused. Her whole body trembled and her eyes fluttered for a brief moment, overcome by what she was about to suggest. “We’ll have to gag her.”

“We can cast a Silencing Charm around the room,” offered Fleur. “That way no one would hear me.”

“No, no, let’s go with the gag,” Harry said, eagerly picking up Hermione’s plan. Quickly glancing around the room, he found the perfect thing. Hopping off the bed, Harry rushed to the dresser and picked the item up. Turning, he held up a crimson and gold neck-tie; an accessory from Bill’s Hogwarts’ days.

“That won’t work; she’ll be able to cry out around the tie. We need to stuff something in her mouth then use the tie to hold it in place,” Hermione said. Once again, the brunette’s eyes fluttered. Without saying a word, Hermione pulled her sopping knickers down. She bunched the garment into a tight ball and held it before Fleur. She said; “Open wide.”

Harry watched as Fleur complied and Hermione proceeded to stuff her soaked knickers into the blonde’s mouth. Fleur moaned.

“Do you like my pussy juice, you trollop,” Hermione said in a near growl.

Both Harry and Fleur stared at Hermione in wide eyed surprise.

The brunette paled guiltily. “I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. Averting her eyes, she added softly; “I don’t know what came over me.”

Gulping, Harry said in a small voice; “I don’t mind.”

Hermione brightened slightly. “You don’t?”

Both Harry and Fleur nodded. He added; “I actually liked it. You can do it some more if you like.” Fleur nodded once again in agreement.

Hermione smiled demurely and let the filth spring forth from her lips. “Do my drippings make you hot, tart?” Her face grew redder. “Would you like to lick it straight from the source?” She ran her tongue over her lips, savoring the power of her words. “I’ll let you dip your tongue in my honey pot after Harry fucks me rotten. That way you can taste everything I have to offer.”

Once again, Fleur looked at Harry and mumbled something that sounded like a statement of appreciation.

“Yes, she’s rather good at it,” Harry said.

Hermione smiled innocently. “Thank you. Now wrap that tie around her mouth and I’ll help guide your cock into her cunt!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry wound the tie around Fleur’s mouth, tying it behind her head and holding the sopping knickers in place. The blonde gave a “mmrrnph” of approval.

True to her word, Hermione was at Harry’s side, holding his organ once the makeshift gag was secured. With a gentle pull, the brunette guided Harry toward his destination. Once his tip was just touching Fleur’s labia, Hermione looked up at Harry and said; “I can feel your heartbeat through your cock,” as if she was pleasantly amused by that particular revelation.

Fleur tugged down the tie and removed the gag. “That’s all well and good, but it’s my turn. I’d really like to feel his pulsating cock in my pussy now.” She then stuffed the soaked kickers back into her mouth and refastened the necktie.

“Let’s not keep the lady waiting,” he said to Hermione and slowly pushed into the woman before him. Fleur instantly began groaning loudly and Hermione made soft cooing sounds as the blonde’s sex enveloped Harry. The young man held his breath as he slowly forced his length into Fleur’s tight womanhood. Fleur’s skin glowed brighter and brighter. The muscles in her back grew taught. When he finally buried himself, Fleur was a radiant ruby and her body was trembling.

A squirt of pre-cum shot out. Harry bit his lip. His loins seized up, threatening to empty themselves into Fleur. Her quivering almost robbed him of his composure and took the moment away from him. Taking a calming breath, Harry pulled back. When his crown threatened to pop out, he slowly pushed back in.

Hermione reached under Fleur. She placed her palm on the woman’s belly and slid down. Fleur yelped when Hermione’s fingertips found her clit. The electric charge caused by the brunette’s touch caused Fleur to clamp even harder on Harry.

“Do you like that?” Hermione asked Fleur as both the blonde and Harry moaned in pleasure. “How bad do you want to cum? Do you want to climax so hard that your juices dribble down Harry’s legs?”

Fleur made a noise and nodded her head.

“All right then; Harry, slam your cock into her ‘till she cums,” Hermione ordered, rubbing Fleur’s nub.

Harry pulled back and in one rapid motion, forced himself deep into Fleur. His hips slapped against her bottom and back of her legs. Her hair flew in all direction as she threw her head back and let out a loud, throaty howl.

“Again!” cheered Hermione. Her brown eyes were wide in wonder and excitement. “Again!”

Egged on by Hermione’s cheers and Fleur’s muffled cries of ecstasy, Harry slammed into the blonde like a piston firing.

Fleur buried her face in the pillow. Her near-screaming moans tore at her throat. Beads of sweat rained down from her body. Never before had she felt such rapture. Harry’s pumping manhood and Hermione’s massaging fingers had conjured an inferno in the woman that Fleur gladly let consume her.

His testicles dripped with Fleur’s arousal. It flowed from her sex, coating his genitals and soaking pubic hairs. Harry groaned out; “You’re so fucking tight and wet.”

“You’re making her wet. Your great, big cock is making her drip!” Hermione said. “And just thinking of your meat and how it’ll split me open is making me flow like a hosepipe.”

Harry paused in his pumping and looked at Hermione. “You’re really good at this dirty talk.”

“I know!” she said with a smile that was wider and brighter than the one she had the time she got a hundred and fifty-two percent on her Arithmancy test in sixth year.

Harry fell back into his previous rhythm.

As the fire raged, Fleur took in short, shallow, hissing breaths through her nose. Soon, her ecstasy claimed her. An explosion erupted in her lower belly and sent a shock wave up her spine, into her head. Everything went white. Fleur trembled and bucked.

“That’s it, cum!” urged Hermione as she aggressively rubbed Fleur’s sex.

A few moment’s later, Fleur removed Hermione’s knickers now dripping with the blonde’s spit. She breathed; “That was… fantastique! I’ve never had an orgasm like that before!”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said proudly.

“Hey, I gave a hand, too,” objected Hermione, wriggling her glistening fingers.

“You’re right. I should repay you somehow for your help,” Harry said with a wry grin.

“Sit down on the bed and I’ll get my payment,” the brunette returned with dark eyes.

Harry plopped down on the bed, his back to the headboard. Hermione quickly straddled him and started to slowly lower herself. Her eyes bulged as his head pushed passed her lips. They somehow grew even wider as she forced herself down onto his lap.

“Wowzers!” she exclaimed.

“‘Wowzers’?” he asked, chuckling. “Not ‘your fat cock is yadda—yadda—something—filthy’?”

“How about ‘your fat cock makes me glad to be a woman’,” she offered, letting out a shuttering sigh.

“Hmm, not incredibly filthy, but still very nice.”

“It feels like he’s filling you up, yes?” asked Fleur.

“Beyond filling me up,” Hermione commented almost clinically. “He’s filled me and stretched me out even further.”

Harry smiled. It was good to be him.

“Enough chit-chat,” Fleur said. She gave Hermione’s firm, round bottom a swat and ordered; “Get to the fucking.”

Wrapping her arms around Harry’s shoulders for leverage, Hermione slowly lifted herself up. When she left herself fall, the brunette’s eyes fluttered. “Fuck me! That feels good!” When she repeated this action, Hermione upgraded her statement. “To hell with good; this feels bloody fantastic!”

Letting Hermione do all the work, Harry placed his hand on her bum and squeezed. Hermione increased her pace. In a few moments’ time, she was riding Harry vigorously. He alternated between looking Hermione in her eyes and at her bouncing breasts.

Fleur knelt next to Hermione. Pushing two fingers into her own quim, Fleur said in a groan; “Now it is time for you to taste my pussy, non?” She removed her fingers, now wet with her release, and brought them to Hermione’s mouth. The brunette parted her lips and moaned when Fleur pushed her fingers into her mouth.

“Do you like it?” the blonde asked.

“Oh Merlin yes!” cried Hermione.

Fleur pushed her fingers back into her sex and brought it to Hermione’s lips. The brunette licked the length of Fleur’s wet fingers hungrily. Once the sticky mess was lapped up, Fleur returned her fingers to her wetness to recoat them.

Hermione’s body glistened. Her bosom heaved and bounced with each breath and thrust.

The pressure built in Harry’s loins. He growled and tensed, trying to hold off the inevitable for just a few seconds. His fingers dug into Hermione’s tender bottom.

“I’m cumming!” Hermione cried. “I’m cumming!”

Her contracting muscles pushed Harry. With a cry of his own, his organ jerked in Hermione, splashing and spraying deep inside her.

Hermione flopped backwards, panting. Fleur lay down next to the brunette and kissed her neck. “Wasn’t it amazing?” the French woman asked. Hermione couldn’t draw enough breath to answer.

Looking down, Harry saw his messy member smugly looking back up at him, boasting it was ready for another romp. He smiled and thanked his teenage virility.

Fleur gasped in surprise when Harry hooked his arms under her legs and dragged her to him. Looking at his still hard manhood, she exclaimed; “Mon Dieu! Again?”

Harry grunted when he pushed his crown, now hyper-sensitive from his climax, into Fleur’s sopping folds.

“O-O-OH!” the blonde moaned out.

“Put the gag back in,” Harry said, gritting his teeth.

“I’ll take care of her,” Hermione said, crawling up and mounting the other woman’s face. “Remember I told you you’d lick my pussy after Harry shagged me? Well, here I come.”

As Hermione sat on Fleur’s face, Harry shoved in.

“GOD YES!” cried Hermione as the vibrations from Fleur’s loud groans reverberated through her delicate lips.

Harry slammed into Fleur. Sweat fell from his chin and nose. He slammed again and again.

“Lick it up!” Hermione said to the woman between her legs. “Lap up the honey and cream dripping from my cunt.”

It didn’t take long for the fire to rebuild in Fleur. Hermione’s climax quickly grew. Harry felt the pressure mount in his loins.

The vibrations from Fleur’s cries and her wriggling tongue caused Hermione to orgasm first. Her fingernails sc****d Fleur’s scalp as her body trembled like a leaf in the wind. The blonde slurped and swallowed Hermione’s release.

A few moments’ later, Fleur joined Hermione. Her legs bucked wildly and her back arched as another explosion laid her to waste.

With a series of grunts, Harry came for the second time. His spent organ quickly softened inside Fleur.

Hermione crawled off Fleur and lay on her belly next to the blonde.

“Mon Dieu,” repeated Fleur. Her left hand reached up and brushed her hair from her face. The gold of her wedding ring sparkled in the waning sunlight.

Harry froze, looking in shock and fear at the ring around Fleur’s finger.

“What is it, mon amour?” Fleur asked, noticing Harry’s expression.

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows and followed Harry’s gaze. A disappointed, shameful groan escaped her lips.

Fleur held up her hand and looked at her wedding ring. “Non.”

The three had been so caught up in the fires of passion that they had not given a thought to the repercussions of their actions. But now, basking in the afterglow, they all stared at Fleur’s wedding ring; a potent reminder of their adulterous deed.

They split apart. Harry quickly found his trousers while Fleur and Hermione rapidly dressed. Then they began casting various cleansing charms on themselves and the room, trying to remove any evidence of their acts; none of them speaking to one another out of shame and guilt.

Silently, they made a vow to each other never to mention or even think about what they had done.

Time Passes…

A few days after Harry defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry proposed to Ginny. He knew at the time he had asked the red-head to be his bride out of guilt – he had wronged the Weasley family by having an affair with Bill’s wife and he was attempting to make reprimands by marrying Ginny. That night after Ginny agreed to be Harry’s wife, the two made love for the first time… well; Harry made love, Ginny just laid there.

Not to be outdone, Ron proposed to Hermione when Harry and Ginny announced their engagement the next day. Hermione had said yes for the exact same reasons that Harry had for proposing.

Fleur pretended to be elated over the happy news, forcing herself to say the addition of Harry and Hermione to the Weasley family was a joyous occasion.

A year later, after Ginny finished Hogwarts, Harry and his fiancée married at the Burrow. Four weeks later, Ron and Hermione exchanged their vows at Shell Cottage in the beautifully maintained garden.

While Ron and Hermione’s guests celebrated their marriage, Harry, the Best Man, sat on one of the guest’s chairs in front of the Altar. His arms were folded over his chest and his brows were furrowed in anger.

Fleur silently took a seat next to Harry. She pulled a bottle of firewhiskey from her robes and poured a generous portion into the cup she held. As she swallowed the amber liquid, she handed the firewhiskey to Harry who took a long pull directly from the bottle.

Noticing Harry and Fleur’s sour moods, Hermione left her guests and sat next to the blonde woman and black-haired man. She smiled nervously; this was the first time the three of them were alone since the incident over a year before.

“It was a lovely ceremony, Hermione,” Fleur said in a monotone.

“Yeah, lovely,” added Harry with an equal lack of passion.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked.

“I’m… what’s the word? Peachy!” chirped Fleur. “I’m just peachy.”

Hermione frowned at the amount of sarcasm in the blonde woman’s voice.

Harry drank another mouthful of alcohol and answered; “My wife’s a dead fish in the sack.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide in surprise while Fleur absently took the firewhiskey from Harry and refilled her cup, as if she wasn’t taken aback by Harry’s announcement.

“But, I thought she was… you know: adventurous,” Hermione said, embarrassed. Even though no one was within earshot of the three, Hermione was uncomfortable discussing such things in public.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Fleur.

“Well… I knew she had a number of boyfriends before Harry… and I heard stories that she… put out.”

“Oh, she did,” Harry said with a frown. “Michael Corner, Dean Thomas, and even Neville to name a few.”

“Neville?” asked Hermione in surprise.

“Like I said, those are just a few. I could go on,” he said bitterly. “Despite her vast experience, she gives a dreadfully lackluster performance. A dead fish, as I said.”

“How can that be? I mean boys from all four Houses were desperate to get with her. I always assumed it was because she was, you know, a great lay.”

“Well, I ran into Dean Thomas a few weeks’ ago and we brought up that very subject,” Harry said. “Yes, Ginny had more than her fair share of boyfriends and yes, she did put out. It turns out, however, that the reason why Ginny was pursued so much was that it was common knowledge to everyone but me that she was a ‘Practice Girl’.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide in shock. “No!”

“What does this mean, ‘Practice Girl’?” asked Fleur.

“It’s a girl that boys sleep with just so they can lose their virginity,” explained Hermione. “That’s all she’s good for: the boy’s first go at sex so they’re not concerned with their performance. Which would explain her being a dead fish even though she’s seen more shaft than a lift in a high rise.”

“Yeah, and I married her! I married the bloody Practice Girl!” grumbled Harry. “She just lies there as if she was only mildly entertained by what I’m doing.”

“I wish Bill would just lie there,” Fleur said, frowning in disappointment. “Then perhaps I could ride him like a dildo and actually get off.”

“I take it Bill isn’t a very good lover either?” Hermione asked.

“Non. First, he is strictly a ‘Missionary Man’ if you catch my meaning – no fun doggy or cowgirl styles. He won’t even fuck me against the wall like a man should!”

The blonde paused to drain her cup of firewhiskey dry.

“Second, each time he climbs on top of me, he sees it as a challenge to cum faster than the time before. He has gotten quite accomplish at that skill let me tell you.

“Third and worst of all, his idea of foreplay is a few frenzied, wet kisses and shoving his tongue in my ear as he starts plowing into me.”

“Oh,” the brunette murmured. If what Fleur and Harry said about their respective spouses was any indication of the Weasley family’s view on intimacy, she feared what Ron, a notoriously lazy and self-absorbed wizard, would do. Or rather; wouldn’t do.

“And don’t even mention… eh… what is the word for pussy licking?” Fleur inquired.

Harry grunted irritably and answered; “Cunnilingus. The first and only time I tried it on Ginny she slapped me across the face and threw me out of our bed. I had to sleep on the couch for three nights.”

“Did she say what Bill told me?” Fleur lowered her voice in a poor imitation of her husband. “No way am I gunna do that! That’s where you piss and bleed!”

“Yep, pretty much,” Harry said shaking his head in disappointment. “She said even the mere thought of putting my mouth anywhere near her bits was foul and disgusting.”

“Oh,” repeated Hermione. She u*********sly folded her hands over her lap, as if apologizing to her womanhood for the lack of attention it would receive.

Balling her hands into tight fists, Fleur growled and announced in frustration; “I am so randy right now, I could fuck a goat!”

“A goat?” asked Hermione, thinking that Fleur, who still had not mastered the English language, had accidentally chosen the wrong word.

“Oui, a goat, a chèvre,” the blonde said, a deep, disappointed frown marring her gorgeous features. “Even a lowly farm a****l would give me more attention and affection than my husband.”

“While the goat’s fucking you, I’ll bag one of the sheep,” added Harry, sourly. He took the bottle of firewhiskey away from Fleur and gulped down two mouthfuls. “It’ll move a hell of a lot more than Ginny and it’ll bleat louder, too.”

Hermione lowered her head. ‘What have I gotten into?’ she wondered. Wizarding marriage contracts were binding with no way, short of physical abuse, to divorce. Perhaps if she had not told Ron she wanted to wait until their wedding night to consummate their relationship, she would’ve known if he was a lousy lover like his siblings and called the engagement off. But now it was too late.

Another thing occurred to Hermione as she sat there; Ron was often offended by her forward attitude and strong will. It was an easy conclusion to assume he’d be put off by her dirty talk. The moment she’d say “fuck,” “cock,” or any other deliciously foul word as she liked to do, Ron would reprimand and scold her. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout.

“Perhaps once the goat is done with me, he can fuck you, huh Hermione?” Fleur said with a mirthless chuckle. And, as if the blonde knew what Hermione was thinking, she added; “I’m sure the goat won’t mind the absolute filth that sputters out of your mouth when you’re fucking.”

Disgruntled by the life changing choice she had made, Hermione pulled the firewhiskey from Harry’s hands and joined in on the commiseration. She gulped down several mouthfuls, ignoring the painful burning of the alcohol.

Harry sighed. He looked from the women who flanked him to the window looking into Shell Cottage’s master bedroom. He remembered fondly the intimacy he shared with Fleur and Hermione over a year before. And with his recollection, Harry felt his loins stir. He sighed again, knowing that his erection would go to waste on his wife.

Then Harry looked back at the women beside him and smiled.

“I have an idea. It’s morally wrong, but it’s infinitely better than resorting to b********y,” offered Harry.

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione.

Harry nodded to the window and grinned devilishly.

Less than five minutes later, the three, who were completely naked save for the white stockings Hermione wore, had cast no less than four Silencing and Notice Me Not Charms in and around the master bedroom.

As Harry pushed Fleur onto the bed and lowered himself between her legs, Hermione urged; “Lick her, Harry, lick her where she pees and bleeds! And after you make her cum, you’ll lick my wet pussy while I suck on your meaty cock!”

After Harry showered both women’s sex with love and attention, he was able to do what a man should and shagged Fleur from behind while her titties were mashed against the bedroom wall.

Eighteen years later…

The voice on the Wizarding Wireless announced; “That was the Finis Flasbacks with their hit ‘Drizzle, Drazzle, Drozzle, Drome’,” drawing the three lovers out of their recollections.

They lay in each other’s arms, basking in their warmth and affection. For years, they have continued to sneak off for these secret rendezvous three to four times a week. Sometimes they met at Harry’s house, others at Hermione’s. But a majority of their clandestine meetings happened at Shell Cottage, the magical place where it all began, usually under the guise of repairing something around the house as to not draw suspicions from their respective spouses.

A soft groan emanated from the parlor.

“Sounds like Bill is starting to wake up,” Hermione said, unconcerned as she drew circles with her fingertips on Harry’s chest.

“I’ll take care of him,” Fleur said. She stood and walked out of the room.

Bill looked at his naked and glistening wife with blurry, bloodshot eyes. “Boy, I shagged you good!” he slurred thickly.

“Yes, Bill, you are the proverbial stud,” she said without annoyance. “Now have another drink.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said and drank directly from the bottle. Less than a second later, the red-head’s eyes closed and he fell asleep once again.

As Fleur walked back into the room to join her lovers, Harry and Hermione enjoyed the view she offered. Despite the fact she would turn forty in a few months, Fleur’s figure, like Hermione’s, was still fantastic thanks to healthy living, exercise, and a few well placed Featherweight Charms applied each morning.

“It is amazing; even after eighteen years, Bill has yet to realize that I’ve spiked his firewhiskey with sleeping potion and constantly Obliviate him,” the blonde said, crawling back into bed.

Harry groaned. Whereas his lovers used firewhiskey to their advantage to dupe their husbands, it was the bane of Harry’s existence. He had only gotten significantly drunk a few times in his life: one of those being when he named his and Ginny’s middle c***d. Why else would he name one of his sons after two of the most wretched people in his life? Harry believed that he was so drunk he was going to name the boy “Albus Severus Tom Marvolo” but had thankfully blacked out before completing the deplorable person trifecta.

“Oh please, Bill is infinitely more aware than Ron,” Hermione said. “I don’t even have to adjust his memory anymore. I just tell him we had sex and his overactive imagination fills in the rest. The idiot doesn’t even realize we’ve never consummated our marriage!”

“Be thankful Ron and Bill are so oblivious,” Harry said to his lovers. “Otherwise they might suspect neither of your grandfathers have black hair and green eyes as you’ve claimed.”

The three shared a laugh at their spouses’ expense.

“It’s so bloody obvious; each one of our k**s has jet black hair and your eyes, Harry,” Hermione said, wiping a joyful tear from her eye.

“Yet, Bill and Ron haven’t suspected that they are not our babies’ fathers,” added Fleur.

Smiling, Fleur curled up to Harry’s chest and said; “Louis looks more and more like his real daddy every day.”

“Half the time I expect Hugo to grab an invisibility cloak and ask me if I want to go on an adventure to find the Philosopher’s Stone,” giggled Hermione.

Recalling Teddy Lupin sharing an intimate moment with Victoire at King’s Cross, Harry said with a sly smile; “Speaking of which, I’ll have to find a way to approach Teddy and ask him what his intentions are with my daughter without letting him know she’s actually my daughter.”

Hermione looked at the clock. “Blast, it’s time to go.”

As Hermione slinked out of bed, Fleur pouted. “Can’t you stay a while longer?”

“Ron may be dim, but I don’t want to push my luck,” the brunette said.

Fleur left Harry and walked to her other lover. She wrapped her arms around Hermione’s shoulders and kissed her neck. “You could always tell him that you discovered I have a leaky roof after the gate was repaired,” the blonde said and kissed the other side of Hermione’s neck.

Growing flush, Hermione caved. “All right, but we’ll have to be quick about it.”

“Bon,” Fleur said and placed her lips to Hermione’s.

Watching his lovers kiss caused Harry’s blood to rush. As his manhood rose, he announced; “I may not be as young as I used to be, but I’ve still got it in me.”

Looking at Harry’s manhood, Hermione said; “It looks like that leaking roof is going to take a bit longer to fix than I planned on.”

Harry took his lovers in turn for the second time that night. All was well.