Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Sloth	By : ElyBaby Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Ron/Ginny Views: 26819 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books of movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Sloth
- 1
Author's Notes: I'm not a native English speaker, hence every intelligent review is very important for me. It helps me to improve my English. This is the second one-shot of my "The Seven Deadly Sins" series, check out "Envy" if you liked this one. Lovely Rachel275 beta-read this. Happy reading!
***

Sloth
Weariness

Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth

Finds the down pillow hard.
Shakespeare, Cymbeline
***
Ron couldn’t believe it. In eighteen years of life at the Burrow, he had never seen it as empty as that summer. He was used to walking between the familiar walls of his house with at least five or six other members of his family, and often some of the friends that he or his siblings had invited home.
But this year was different. This year everything was going to be different.
Charlie had gone back to Romania a few days after the final battle between Harry and Voldemort had taken place. Everybody suspected, and secretly hoped, that he had finally found a beautiful, young lady to keep him company for the rest of his life. None more than his parents, who couldn’t bear to hear from him every week and find out that he spent all his time with dragons and other dangerous beasts. But he was reserved like an Eighth Century girl on that matter, and nobody, not even a very tenacious Mrs Weasley, had managed to get a word out on that topic. So he had left at the end of June, again preferring the cold Romania to his crowded house; the company of dragons to that of his family.
Percy had finally showed his mother the small and tidy flat where he lived. Close enough to the Ministry, and to Diagon Alley, to let him never be late for work. He had eventually managed to convince her that he was fine there; that the Burrow wasn’t his place anymore. That he had to bring his work home and needed peace and silence to concentrate; something that was usually out of the question at the Burrow.
George had stayed in his old home for weeks; sitting on Fred’s bed in their old bedroom. The curtains drawn to give the room an eternal feeling of darkness and discomfort. His skin had become paler than usual, the rings around his eyes more marked. He hadn’t eaten, he hadn’t drunk, he hadn’t talked, he hadn’t gone to the bathroom. His routine was to sit on his twin’s bed and watch the world going on around him. That would have been it if it wasn’t for Harry. He arrived one day at the beginning of July and offered George help with the shop. Harry said that he couldn’t have let the activity he used to have with his brother deteriorate in that way. Fred wouldn’t have wanted that. Even though George resisted and struggled against Harry’s reasoning, in the end he finally gave in and ate, drank, walked and talked again. And there began a new part of the life of George Weasley, as he left the Burrow to return to Diagon Alley and to the shop built right under his house, where his employee, Verity, was ready to comfort him in every possible way.
Bill was married, Fleur was pregnant, and little Victoire was on the way. They lived at Shell Cottage for a year, until the day Fleur Weasley had the most brilliant of ideas. She wanted to visit her parents and spend time with them in her beautiful France. And she wanted to do that before her belly became so wide that it didn’t give her any other choice than staying at home and enslaving her husband into doing things for her. As she prepared her and her husband’s trunks, the idea of offering her parents-in-law a proper holiday as they had not seen in ages, struck her mind. Initially the Weasleys naturally refused, but Fleur wasn’t one to accept a denial so easily. And so, by the end of July, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill and Fleur were leaving for the country of the baguette, where they would spend a month or so, trying to find solace in a foreign place after the death of one of their sons.
Harry had promised to help George with the shop, but his duty wasn’t going to start for another year. He still had to complete his last year at Hogwarts; the one that Voldemort had stolen from them. He was spending that summer searching for a place to live; checking out every house he could afford in Diagon Alley. He could afford many of them, actually, but didn’t really like any, and so his research was becoming like an almost impossible quest.
Hermione had flown to Australia to collect her parents. She wrote to Ron saying that she had found them, and that they were all right. They were now spending a holiday in the kangaroos’ land, and she sent him Muggle pictures at a weekly rate. She wished that Ron would have been able to go with her, but she understood his reasons. He had lost a brother, so he had every right to refuse her proposal and take his time. She missed him, though.
So, Ron was home, and Ginny was with him. They’d been asked to go to France, to Romania and to Australia. They’d been asked to go somewhere, everywhere, and have a holiday. They’d been asked to stay with George for a while. But they had refused. For the first time in their lives they were left home alone, no parents to look after them, no older brothers to boss them around. It was just the two of them, and so the hot summer was going on in a weird silence to which the siblings weren’t accustomed, but to which they seemed to get slowly used to.
They woke up when they felt like it, and went to bed when sleep made their eyes heavy. They never took showers; they always had baths in the pond. They never cooked; they heated what their mother had prepared for them. And they never spoke, but they still communicated.
***
“There’s a letter from mum,” announced Ron, walking into his sister’s bedroom without knocking. She was lying on her bed, her transparent nightgown caught up around her waist, her plain white knickers tight on her hips. Her hair was a mess and it fell on her shoulders like fire. She was looking out of the window in an unnatural stillness, and when Ron walked in she turned her head with a mellifluous movement.
Ron threw Ginny the letter and sat next to her. He was wearing a pair of boxers, and his hair was as messy as his sister’s. He looked at her as she straightened up and slid her nightgown down her thighs. His eyes fixed on her smooth, white skin. So similar to his and at the same time so different, so much silkier than his own.
She opened the letter and read it, her lips mouthing silently what her eyes were seeing. Every now and then, she giggled or cocked an eyebrow, scratched her temple or frowned. Eventually she smiled, folded the letter back into its envelope and gave it back to Ron.
“They’re having a great time,” she murmured sleepily, sliding down and pulling a light, white sheet up to cover her to her chest. “In Paris and Marseille and Lyon.”
Ron nodded. “Are you going to get up?” he asked, his voice flat as if he didn’t care about her answer.
Ginny closed her eyes. “Are you?” she said in a whisper.
“I’m up,” he replied slowly, as if he shouldn’t have been up at all.
“Then come back to bed,” she murmured. One of her white arms appeared from under the covers, and before Ron had chance to understand what she was doing, she closed her warm fingers around his wrist and dragged her brother down on to the bed, next to her.
“Hey,” Ron said, smiling softly.
She let him go. “Come on,” she said, hiding her head under the sheet. “It’s only afternoon.”
Ron stared at her figure under the sheet. She was little, she was thin, she had his skin, his hair, his freckles and his blood. She was his sister. She was his.
He turned on the bed and lay down next to her. Rolling on to his side, he slid under the sheet and placed one of his legs between hers. He felt her stiffen a little, but when he placed his hand on her belly she relaxed in his arms. He pulled her to him, holding her close to his almost naked body. His head snuck up close to hers and he planted a light kiss under her ear. He felt her body accommodate to his, her back sticking perfectly to his torso. She pushed backwards until her bottom was pressing against his lower abdomen through their light clothes.
“Sleep now,” she murmured in a hushed voice. He did as he was told.
***
They spent almost all of their time in the house, in their bedrooms; naked, sweaty and slick under their sheets. When the hotness became unbearable they dared to walk out into the grounds, heading towards the fresh water of the pond which was too inviting to be ignored.
This day so incredibly hot that it had the power to make Ginny get up and climb the stairs to Ron’s bedroom. “I’m hot,” she complained, as she stepped into his room. She was wearing a pair of knickers and an oversized, transparent shirt which loosely skimmed her sides.
Ron turned to look at her from his bed. His room was a mess, and he knew that if his mother saw it he would have not have gotten dinner for months. But Ginny wasn’t his mother. Ginny didn’t care, her bedroom was in the same state.
“What are you telling me that for?” asked Ron, rubbing his eyes in the darkness and trying to focus his attention on her little body standing in the doorway.
“Let’s go to the pond,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s fresh and we can take a bath at the same time.” She sniffed the air like a dog. “We smell.”
Ron rolled onto his side, showing her his back. “Go ahead,” he murmured, “I’ll be right there.”
Ginny sighed. “I don’t want to go there alone,” she replied, pouting.
Ron sighed. He pulled the sheet away and stood up. His boxers stuck to his body in an almost awkward way, but Ginny didn’t care. He was her brother and she was half naked too.
“Okay,” he conceded, shoving her softly out of the door and following her. He kept on pushing her down the stairs, but when they passed by her bedroom, she dug her heels into the floor and stopped him.
“What?” he asked, almost banging against her back.
“I need to wear my swimsuit,” she replied softly.
Ron let his eyes travel down her body. When she started to walk towards her bedroom, he seized her arm and dragged her down the stairs towards the kitchen.
“Hey!” she protested, trying to make resist him. “My swimsuit.”
“You threw me out of bed,” he replied, grinning, “you don’t think I’ll give you time to wear a swimsuit, do you?”
Ginny giggled. She freed herself from his brother’s grip and tried to go back to her room, but Ron was quicker, and taller, and stronger. It didn’t take much effort for him to grab her by the wrist once again, slide his arms around her waist and lift her from the ground.
“Ron!” she protested again, her lips curling into a smile as she spoke. She arched her back and gripped his arms. “Ron,” she repeated more calmly, trying to explain. “I need a swimsuit, this shirt is too big. It’ll get soaked and I’ll sink into the water.”
Ron smiled. “I’ll take care of you,” he replied, his voice low and reassuringly. “I won’t let you sink.” He walked out of the house with his sister in his arms, every now and then letting her feet touch the ground as he tried to make her weight easier to carry.
They reached the pond, and discovered that Ginny was right. Despite the hotness of the afternoon, the water looked fresh and clear and tempting. It was a guilty pleasure that they’d granted themselves every summer since they were experienced enough to not drown. This was the first time that they were going to sink into the water when it was just the pair of them. They felt a stupid excitement, as if bathing together in the pond behind their house meant something more to them.
Ron let her go. Then, once Ginny’s feet were firmly on the ground again, she knelt in front of him, curling herself into a ball, and immersing her hot hand into the water.
“How is it?” asked Ron from behind her, peeking over her shoulder.
Ginny stood up, turned and sprinkled water all over Ron. He chuckled and backed away a little, shielding himself with his arms.
“How is it?” Ginny asked back, giggling and drying her hand on her thigh.
Ron wiped water from his eyes and smirked. “We’re going to know that pretty soon,” he replied, and with no warning he threw himself at Ginny, bringing her down with him as he dived into the water.
Ginny let out a scream of surprise, but she quickly got over it and managed to close her mouth before she swallowed more water than she would have liked. The cold liquid surrounded them from every direction; cooling and relaxing them like a glass of pumpkin juice.
Ginny opened her eyes under the water. She liked to do that. It gave a view of a totally different world, with some beautiful tones of blues and greens. Above all, most of her brothers envied her; as not many of them could keep their eyes open underwater. Bill, Charlie, Percy, the twins all had to get out and wipe their eyes. Only Ron had that same gift, and Ron was the one that was there with her at that now.
As she looked at her brother, she found him staring back at her. His red hair looked a bit greenish in the pond, his skin was whiter and his freckles stood up like spots of ink on his face. He looked like he was flying, floating in mid water, his hair dancing around his face, his eyes looking directly into hers. He was so similar to her, he matched her perfectly.
Ron stretched a hand in front of him, reaching for her shirt which was floating between them. He pulled at the thin material and pulled Ginny to him. Some bubbles of air escaped from her nose, tickling her eyes, and she smiled.
Ron’s eyes caressed her white tummy and legs. Her shirt looked like a veil around her body and made her seem like an enchanted queen of fairies. Ron loved that. She looked like Titania or Ophelia in the river. She was beautiful.
He brought a hand to her face and caressed her left cheek with the back of it. She smiled innocently and, without notice, stretched her neck forward and kissed him on the lips. It was a quick and chaste and beautiful kiss, but it startled Ron and made him stop moving his hand over her face.
She pulled back her head and smiled, some more bubbles leaving her nose. Then, with a push of her feet, she swam away and reached for the surface.
***
When George stepped out of the fireplace he couldn’t believe his eyes. What used to be his home was very unfamiliar to him, for there was no surface free from garbage or dirty clothes that he could recognize. He smoothed his robes after his journey by Floo Powder travel and called for his two younger siblings, but no answer reached his only ear.
He tried to make his way through the things that lay abandoned on the floor. Staggering and tripping every now and then. When his mother had asked him to go and check on Ginny and Ron, two weeks ago, he had thought it was unnecessary as they were no longer children. He considered Ginny almost a woman. George had listened to his mother talking about how she'd had one baby, and at the same time, another on the way before her twenties, too many times to think that his sister wouldn't have been able to keep a house tidy at her age. He started to think that he was terribly wrong.
He started to walk towards the stairs; squashing a packet of Chocolate Frog with his foot. They had been left open on the floor and had become mouldy. He tried to slalom around his siblings’ clothes, but he couldn’t avoid Ron’s boxers part way up the stairs.
Ginny’s door was closed, and so George decided that it would be better if he knocked, even if he did want to lecture her for a good half an hour as soon as he found her. Nobody answered him, but since he didn’t trust his hearing anymore after the incident, he opened the door and called her name.
Still no answer, and this time he was confirmed of her absence by her empty bed and the widow left open on the hot evening. He shook his head disapprovingly at the sight of the chaos that hadn’t spared Ginny’s bedroom as much as the rest of the house.
George walked out and closed the door behind him. Turning towards the stairs, he passed by his parents’ room, and was horror-struck when he found it open and raped just like every other room. Their bed was unmade, the sheets rolled up in a corner; the floor covered with clothes; the window was open. He snorted and wondered if they had wandered from one bed to another, just because they were too lazy to change the covers. What on Earth were those two thinking? he thought.
He entered every room of the house and felt his anger rise when he noticed that there was no place that hadn’t encountered the same fate. No bed had been spared, no floor had been left clean. He climbed the last flight of stairs, and found himself in front of a door painted in orange, a signal that asked for visitors to not-so-courteously stay away.
He brought his hand to the door, after considering whether Ron deserved to be announced of his presence before he entered his room. He came to the conclusion that Ron and Ginny hadn’t asked for his permission to enter into his and Fred’s bedroom, so he simply brought his hand to the handle and pushed it down, opening the door without much grace.
His brother’s bedroom was, if possible, even messier than the rest of the house. It was also immersed in a warm orange light because his curtains were pulled closed, just like the window. George’s first thought was that he was going to suffocate. The air so heavy with carbon dioxide that he wondered how someone could stay in there. But actually there was someone there, in Ron’s bed, buried under so many blankets that, even if it was winter, the heat under it would have been unbearable.
George walked towards the window and pulled the curtains and window open with a hasty gesture; letting some warm air and reddish light into the chamber. The sun was setting behind the mountains, but it gave the bedroom more light than the curtains let in.
A moan came from the bed, and someone complained lightly about the change. George turned towards the place where those murmurs came from and stared.
He had searched for Ron and yes, there was Ron, but he wasn’t alone. Ginny was lying at his side. As far as George could see, Ron wasn’t wearing anything, at least not above his waist. Ginny lay next to him, and she was wearing a big, blue shirt, very probably owned by Bill in a not-too-distant past.
They were lying on their sides, facing each other. Ginny’s left hand rested peacefully on the pillow between them, while her right was leaning somewhere on Ron’s waist. Ron’s were around her small body, and had half-disappeared under the covers. Their exposed skin was covered with sweat, and locks of fiery red hair were stuck to their foreheads.
All of a sudden, George was reminded of them as children when they used to lay like that in the afternoon. Their mother would put them to bed and tell everybody to let them sleep, because they were young. Naturally he and Fred would do anything just to wake them up.
George walked towards the bed and saw that they were trying to open their eyes to look at him, but their eyelids were too heavy with sleep to completely open.
“George,” muttered Ginny at some point, her lips moving slightly as she said his name.
Ron murmured something as well, but nobody caught it. He straightened his back and pulled Ginny to him, their noses brushing slightly.
George smiled against his will. He walked towards them and sat next to Ron on the bed, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder, it was hot and sticky, as if he was burning with a fever.
Ron turned, sliding his hands down off Ginny’s body. “George,” he murmured, trying to focus on his brother’s face.
“What are you doing here?” Ginny asked, her eyes still half-closed.
George shook his head. “Mum asked me to check on you two,” he replied. “And that was two weeks ago. I should have come here then.”
Ron smiled a sleepy smile. “Why?” he asked.
“Why?” repeated George, rolling his eyes. “Why? Ron look around you,” he said, “what happened here? What’s all this mess?”
“We don’t have the need to tidy up every day,” replied Ginny for him.
“No, not every day,” said George calmly, “maybe just once in a while?”
Ginny shook her head. “We are not mum.”
“No,” replied George sitting up, “but I think you need her. I’ll owl her right now. Where’s Errol?”
“No, George,” replied Ron, this time a bit more strongly as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. “She deserves her holiday, she hasn’t had one in ages.”
“And we don’t need her help,” replied Ginny. “Both of us are of age, we can use magic to tidy up everything, when we’re ready.”
George shook his head. “Then why don’t you want to do it?” he asked.
“We are just tired,” replied Ginny.
“Did you get up at all today?” George asked.
“We are going to get up now,” replied Ron, pushing the sheets away.
“Now it’s almost evening, Ron,” pointed out George.
“Why don’t you stay for dinner?” asked Ginny, sitting up as well.
“What do you usually eat?” asked George, wondering silently if they ate at all.
Ron stood up, and George was relieved to see that he was wearing a pair of boxers. Then he shook his head, he didn’t know what his perverted brain thought his two little siblings were doing. Naturally, they were just sleeping. Ron’s skin was flushed pretty much everywhere and as soon as he stood up George placed a hand on his forehead. “Do you have a temperature?” he asked him seriously.
Ron jerked away from him and chuckled. “You sound just like mum,” he said, staggering around his underwear on the floor. “Do you have a temperature?” he mocked, as he walked towards the door.
“Do you?” asked George again, ignoring him.
Ron shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, “we are fine.” He nodded towards Ginny and walked out of the door.
Ginny nodded, she pushed away the blankets and uncovered her naked legs. The shirt had risen a little too high over her hips and her nest of red hair was clearly visible between her legs. She giggled and pulled down the shirt until it covered half of her thighs. She walked past George, who looked at her a bit taken aback, and followed Ron down the stairs.
George followed them, and when they entered the kitchen and sat down at the table, he looked at them from the door. “Why don’t you dress a little?” he asked sensibly.
Ginny shrugged her shoulders. “It’s too hot,” she replied in a carefree tone, “and we don’t have any clean clothes.”
George sighed. “What about washing them?” he asked quietly.
Ron shook his head. “What about dinner?” he asked back.
“Yes, dinner,” said Ginny, looking at him with her bright brown eyes. “Come on George,” she added, patting a chair across to her.
George walked towards them and waited for Ron to lazily flick his wand and make a thin dinner appear in front of them. There was potatoes and beef, and pumpkin juice, of course. George collected the cutlery and some glasses, and lit up some candles in the middle of the table.
“When are mum and dad coming back?” he asked them, cutting through the beef.
Ron brought a piece of potato to his mouth and shrugged. “Before we are going back to Hogwarts, I think,” he said slowly.
“The end of August,” agreed Ginny.
“And do you need me to stay here with you?” he asked them. He secretly hoped that they would have asked him to stay, because, after that tour of the house, he wasn’t sure at all that they could take care of themselves.
Ginny giggled. “No,” she said, “we are fine.”
“You look like some lost children, growing up in a wild way,” George said, “and you aren’t doing anything.”
“We are tired,” replied Ron. “But we can take care of ourselves. Mum believes in us, you should do the same.”
“Mum hasn’t seen what I’ve seen,” snapped George.
“We are fine,” repeated Ginny, smiling.
George sighed, they wanted to be left alone, he could understand that after all. And the mess they were living in? Well, he could have understood that as well, they just needed to get used to the new life without Fred and many of their friends, it was just a phase.
“Okay,” he finally conceded. “Just one thing, then.”
“What?” asked Ron lazily.
“Tide up a little.”
***
The thing that Ron found more fascinating than anything else was that both he and Ginny absolutely loved the idea of doing the opposite to what George had asked them to do. So the house was in great mess. They were walking like zombies, half-naked and half-sleepy, and they eat without thought when they were hungry or when they found something edible left around the house, even if it was mouldy or rotten.
They started to sleep together, every night and every day. They ate together, went to the pond together and sat together on the couch to look out of the window in utter silence and unreal peace. One in the arms of the other, they would sweat and feel the material of their occasionally worn clothes stuck to their skin, and they liked it.
They slept so much that they didn’t even know how they managed to wake up and fall asleep yet again, until their legs were no longer used to stand up or walk around.
“We really smell,” said Ron, one time that they were lying on the couch in the living room. He was laying there on his back and, for the first time since their parents had left, he was wearing something over his boxers, a pair of shorts. Ginny was lying on top him, on her stomach. Their legs were entangled and every time one of them moved, the other had to follow the movement. She was wearing a sundress that should have reached her knee, but kept on lifting up. Ron had his left arm around her neck, and he was keeping her down on his chest. His other hand was in hers, fingers entangled.
Ginny laughed, her breasts, pushed against her brother’s chest, trembled between them. “And what do you propose?” she asked sleepy. “I’m not in the mood for walking to the pond today.”
Ron nodded. “Me neither,” he agreed, his eyes closed. “Maybe a shower?”
“No,” she replied, “I can’t get up.”
“And I can’t get up either, if you don’t stand,” said Ron calmly. “Any other idea then?”
Slowly Ginny raised her head and pressed her hot lips against his jaw. Ron smiled under her. “I suggest,” she said, kissing him, “that we wash each other-” She gave him a bite. “-until we are cleaned.” Her tongue darted out and she licked his skin.
Ron shivered with pleasure. He smiled softly and nodded in agreement. “If there’s no other solution,” he murmured.
“I swear,” said Ginny, her hands pushing on his chest to sit up, “there’s no other solution.”
She bent over him, her legs at his sides, and started to lick his face like a cat would do with her kitten. She felt his early stubble under her tongue and giggled softly. She started to work her way slowly down his neck, and felt him shiver with pleasure. His body relaxed and stiffened every time she licked or pulled away her tongue.
“Ginny,” he murmured hoarsely, placing his hands on her hips. She was so small, and warm, and beautiful, and he couldn’t believe that he was shivering under her touch.
She ignored him as he called her name. Instead she went down onto her brother’s chest, tasting his salty flavour on the top of her tongue. She slid down his body, and felt his hands slipping up on her sides, the sundress raising with them, until it reached her waist and some hot air brushed her inner folds.
Ginny reached for his nipples and nibbled at them, taking them between her teeth. She felt Ron’s hands tighten on her sides and she knew that her brother wasn’t indifferent to her tongue. She bent even lower, her back a perfect arc, from her naked bottom that was high up in the air to her head that was working slowly down her brother’s chest.
She smiled against his skin when he stiffened a little under her mouth, but when his hands touched her bottom, it was her turn to stiffen. She felt his long, calloused fingers caressing the smooth skin of some of her most sensitive parts, and suddenly her folds became wet.
She left Ron’s nipples alone and kept on licking her way down his stomach and to his navel, where she found a very sensitive spot. Every time that her tongue showered it, Ron sucked in his breath. She smiled and pressed her breasts against his crotch through his shorts, feeling the bulge, hard and big, underneath her.
She brought her hands to his zip but as soon as her fingers started working on it, Ron moved his hands from her bottom to her arms and pushed her up to him, her face meeting his chest once again.
Through half-closed eyes, he said, “Your turn.” He raised her face to his and, standing up, lay her down on her stomach on the couch, leaning her head to the other side, her sundress falling slowly back over her legs.
He knelt at the bottom of his sister, his face flushed and his skin red from her licking and sucking. He bent over her, his hands on her legs. He grabbed her sundress and rolled it up, until her red curls were finally visible in front of him.
He stood there for a moment, his head buzzing with thousands of thoughts as he considered the fact that Ginny was his sister, and that maybe what he was doing was not at all right. However then Ginny moved under him. She brought one of her legs up until her knee touched him between his legs and as she pushed a little he bent forward over her.
He placed his hands under her bottom and lifted it up, meanwhile he curved his back and brought his nose between her legs. He sniffed like a dog and inhaled her scent, which went straight to his brain and inebriated him. Her pubic hair was already glistening with moisture.
He dived his tongue into her folds, and Ginny sucked in her breath. She arched her back and brought her hands down, lacing her fingers into his hair, her legs up in the air. She was trembling slightly from the effort of staying up and from the pleasure.
Ron touched her anus with his tongue and starting from there he licked her up to her clitoris, making her shiver and moan. He took her clit in his mouth, biting it softly with his teeth and his lips. He kissed her inner folds and licked them until his tongue could get in. Until his nose was stuck against her clitoris and he couldn’t get any further.
Ginny pushed his face against her vagina and rocked up her belly at the same time, trying to get as much pleasure as she could from him; even if that meant to suffocating her brother. She tightened her grip on his hair and let out a little cry when Ron’s mouth travelled south towards her anus another time. She felt his tongue entering her and moaned.
He licked her slowly and meticulously, making all her entrances wet and slick. When he pulled away his tongue and brought his mouth back to her vagina, he inserted a finger into her anus, now a bit more lubricated than before, to let her know that he didn’t mean to leave that alone.
Ginny screamed, guiding his head even deeper into her. Ron inserted his index finger in her rear hole until he could feel its shape with his tongue through her thin wall. He pushed at the same time into the two holes, and finally Ginny let out a scream and convulsed around his finger and his tongue; her hands tightening their grip on his hair as she did so.
Ron smiled against her folds and started to lick the white moisture, the fruit of her orgasm, that was flowing from her folds and dripping from her hair like a river.
She trembled slightly, her hands freeing Ron’s hair. Her breath was short as she tried to recover from the pleasure that had invaded her body; Ron’s tongue still caressing her was making it very difficult.
He showered her inner folds with his tongue, until there was no more humours left between her legs or on her hair or on the couch. And when she was all cleaned and washed he backed and stood up.
Ginny looked at him from the couch. She stretched a hand towards him, her limbs too weak to permit her to do anything else. Ron ignored her and walked away, leaving her on the sofa with her sundress rolled around her waist and her legs spread.
The last thing Ginny heard was the main door that banged at Ron’s back, and then she fell asleep.
***
Ron lay on his back forever, until the afternoon sank into evening and the evening became night. The thought of having just made his sister come burned inside of him like a flame, and it flushed his cheeks with embarrassment and satisfaction. He still had her taste on his tongue, and kept licking his lips as if to find more traces of her moistures on him. She was wonderful, she was charming, she was the forbidden fruit from heaven. He wondered how damned he was. A lot, he silently answered himself.
He was starting to get used to the humid ground and the tickling grass under his back, when someone approached him from the house. He looked up and spotted fiery red hair and brown eyes, and smiled with anticipation.
Ginny smiled back, she was shoeless, just like him, and was wearing the same sundress from hours before. Her hair was a mess all over her face. She circled Ron and lay down next to him, pressing her small figure to his body, her tiny breasts pushing on his side as she made her arm slide around his torso.
“Aren’t you coming inside?” she asked, leaning her head on his shoulder.
Ron brought his arms around her back and hugged her, but he didn’t answer.
“Then I’m staying here with you,” she said quietly, her breath slow and measured.
“Okay,” replied Ron, and with that they decided that they were going to sleep outside that night.
***
The chaos in the house didn’t mirror what was occurring between the siblings. The more the house became messy and dirty, the more they stuck to each other and loved each other. Their feelings were taking a more defined shape.
“There’s an owl for you,” said Ginny, waving a letter in front of a semi-sleeping Ron.
He murmured something incomprehensible, and opened his eyes. “Who is it from?” he asked slowly, his voice hoarse.
“Let me see,” said Ginny, pretending to read the sender’s name for the first time. “A certain Miss Granger.”
For the first time since they’d had their little rendezvous on the couch, Ginny saw a sparkle of life in Ron’s eyes. He stretched his arm forward and grabbed Ginny’s wrist, pulling her to him and making her lay on their parents’ bed with him.
He took the letter from her hands as she accommodated to his body. Her only clothes were a top and a pair of knickers. He tore it open and brought it up above his head. Ron cleared his throat and started to read.
“Dear Ron,” he said, his voice still a bit sleepy. “I’m on my way back from Australia, but we are taking a plane and doing a bit of a detour towards Japan. I’ve never seen it, and neither have mum and dad, so we decided that there was no hurry to get back. It’s going to be interesting. I hope.”
Ginny moved at Ron’s side. Her smooth legs rubbed against his, and sent a nice hot pleasure right through Ron’s body.
“What about you? I’m sorry that you and Ginny are staying home alone for the whole summer. I hoped your parents would have taken you with them. Evidently there was a reason you hadn’t gone. Are you seeing Harry at all? I hope so, he must be quite lonely in Diagon Alley.”
Ginny smiled, Hermione was so caring, it made her smile.
“Anyway, I’m sorry this message is so short. I just wanted you to have some news from me. Don’t think that I’m not looking forward to seeing you again. I miss you so much. I think the first time we will see each again is at Platform 9 and ¾, though. I can’t wait. Give Ginny love, Hermione.” Ron finished reading and placed the letter on the desk, staying still for a moment as if to decide what to do.
Finally he turned towards Ginny and cupped her cheek with his hand, raising her chin and attracting her to his own face. He bent over her and kissed her on the lips, the same kiss that she had given him underwater, he offered it back to her. The hand that Ron wasn’t using travelled south, down to her knickers, where he caressed between her legs through the soft material.
Ginny jerked away, breathless. She looked at her brother and frowned. “What are you doing?” she asked in a bare whisper.
Ron smiled, both his hands on her body. “Giving you Hermione’s love,” he replied calmly.
“Not here, Ron,” she murmured, standing up, “it’s mum and dad’s bed.” Ron’s eyes followed her as she walked out, and disappeared into the corridor.
***
The hotness that had invaded England since Voldemort’s death didn’t have any intention of going away. Even in the last days of August, the days were still warm and humid, almost unbearable to people who were concerned with that. And everybody was concerned with that. Everybody but Ron and Ginny, naturally. Hotness made them weak, and weakness made them sleep, and sleep brought them closer, and they liked it. And so hours became days and days became weeks, and they all flew past, melting in the silence of the Burrow.
“Ron,” murmured Ginny, waking up at one in the morning. “Are you up?”
Ron murmured something in response, nothing Ginny could understand though. They were lying in Ron’s bedroom, the sheets half in a corner of the bed, and half on the floor with their clothes and leftover food. Ron was wearing a pair of underpants and Ginny a nightdress she had found days before at the bottom of her wardrobe. They were lying one next to the other, on their backs.
“Ron,” Ginny called again. She pushed with her elbows and straightened up a little.
“What?” asked Ron, his eyes closed and his voice sleepy.
“Mum and dad will be here by the end of the week,” she murmured.
“I know, Ginny,” replied Ron, slowly raising his eyelids. “What’s the matter?” He looked at her in the dim light of the moon, she was staring somewhere in front of her, her eyes lost in the darkness.
She sighed deeply and turned towards her brother, throwing her arms around his neck; she lay her head against his and hugged him. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear.
Ron hugged her back, tightly. “Love you too,” he replied in a bare whisper.
“Love,” she murmured, her voice low with lust.
Ron didn’t know if she was still calling him or if she asked for that, but he didn’t need her to ask him twice if she wanted that. He wanted her. Oh, how much he wanted her! She walked half-naked through the house for the whole day, and when she didn’t, she lay down with him, so close to him that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other started.
He brought his head close to hers, so close to hers that he could smell her breath, and he kissed her. His lips first sweet against hers, then, little by little, more ravenous and strong, and when she opened up for him and their tongues finally met he became so hungry for her that when Ginny moaned it wasn’t only from pleasure, but also from pain.
He released her and kissed his way from her lips to her jaw and to her collarbone. His hands followed the curve of her petite body as he looked for the hem of her nightdress. Finally his warm hands touched her bare legs and he started to make the dress roll up her body, but this time he didn’t stop at her waist. He went up and up until he caught a glimpse of her milky breasts and until she raised her arms above her head to help him undress her.
The nightgown reached their other clothes on the floor, its destiny to never be worn again by Ginny, at least not until her mother had washed it.
Ron lay her down on his bed and he turned to look at her. She was naked, completely naked like he hadn’t seen her in ages, since they were five, or maybe six. Her body was petite; her breasts still small, but full and hard; her skin was just like his, white and sprinkled with freckles; her hair an untamed mane around her head.
Ron bent over her and continued his descent from where he had stopped, moving quickly from her collarbone to her nipples. He closed his hands around her breasts and squeezed them softly, rubbing his thumbs against her already hard nipples.
Ginny moaned, her body trembled under her brother.
Ron neared to her breasts. He opened his mouth and took her left nipple into his mouth, biting, sucking and licking her as if he expected to drink from her. He pushed her small breasts together and took them both in his mouth, then he showered her cleavage with his tongue and went down to her navel. He licked it and all around it and continued even more downwards, to the place he knew so well, to the smell that had inebriated him in the past, to the flavour that he had longed to experience at least another time since that day. He tried to spread her legs, but she struggled.
Ginny sat up, and pulled Ron back to her, pressing her breasts against his chest and kissing him just as ravenously as he had kissed her. They fell on the bed and rolled, legs entangled in a knot. Ron brushed her folds with his leg and Ginny sucked in her breath. He placed a knee between her legs and pushed. Ginny moaned against his lips and she started to rock back and forward against his leg, soaking him with her moisture.
Ron pushed even harder against her core, and she started to buck her hips against him. Straddling his limb as if it was his cock, she pushed her clit against his skin. She let go of his lips and, gripping to his shoulders for support, she came with a scream, her body shaking and her cheeks flushing.
Her head sunk into the pillow, her breasts moving up and down with her difficult breath, her hands still gripping forcefully at her brother’s arms. She brushed Ron’s right leg with hers and closed it between her legs, against her pubic area. She smiled and, getting closer to him, she made him roll on his back.
She moved her hands over his torso and down to his underpants, pinching softly at his flesh. She brushed the bulge that he had between his legs and he whimpered, his eyes following her hands closely. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and passed her tongue on her lips, in a gesture that made Ron even more aroused.
She didn’t break eye contact as she bent over him and pulled his shorts and pants down, freeing his erect cock. Ron held his breath as she wrapped his erection in her hand, caressing it between her warm fingers. She looked at it and before Ron could even move she pressed her lips against the top and kissed it.
Ron thought that he was going to die, and when her lips parted and she took it into her mouth, he thought that he was in heaven. He gulped loudly and gripped the sheets on the bed, his breath becoming hard and quick.
Ginny’s hand lowered onto his balls and she started to massage them, causing Ron to moan. He dared to look at her and for a moment his head started to buzz. His sister was kneeling over his cock, making it disappear into her mouth; every second more quickly. Her hands pushed at his balls and tried to make him come into her mouth.
But Ron didn’t need to be helped by her hands, because her mouth was already bringing him to the highest bliss. On the contrary, he had to concentrate on something else to delay is orgasm a bit longer and enjoy Ginny’s mouth on his cock.
He stretched a hand towards his sister and caressed her back, following the line of her spine with his fingers. He reached her bottom and didn’t stop until he found her rear hole. He felt Ginny suck on his cock, her breasts bouncing a bit forward, as he pushed against her hole.
Ron brought his finger to his mouth and then back to her hole, lubricating it, and he pushed into her spreading her and deepening as far as he could. Ginny moaned against his cock and she increased her pace, her tongue helping her lips to give him pleasure. The faster she was, the deepest Ron inserted his finger into her.
Ginny felt his cock get bigger and harder against her walls as, with a hushed cry, Ron, came into her mouth, sending hot seed into her throat. She swallowed; it tasted like sugar and lemon. She swallowed and licked it until there was no white liquid left.
Ron had stopped his wandering finger to get farther into her hole. His limbs were caught by a delightful numbness as he relaxed on the bed. He looked as Ginny slid up his body, stroking his skin with hers, pushing her private parts against his body. She placed a hand on his chest and kissed him, letting him taste his flavour on her tongue. She went down again on his chest, kissing and biting his skin and, grabbing his arms, she helped herself up and slid over him, positioning her entrance against his cock.
Ron looked at her as if he was ready to die for the second time, and when Ginny brushed her folds against his penis he bit his bottom lip and pushed up, entering her of a couple of inches. She threw her head back. Leaning her hands over his legs, she pushed down, letting out a moan of satisfaction.
She started to move, straddling him and brushing her clit against his pubic area. His cock hitting her walls every time she pushed down. His balls touching between her legs every time he rocked up his hips.
Her breasts bounced up and down and Ron’s eyes were glued to them. Drawn by their perfection as he remembered their shape in his mouth, he raised his arms and brought his hands to her rosy nipples pinching at them. Ginny started to pant, her head moving from left to right, her hair falling on her shoulders like a rain of fire.
Ron felt his second orgasm build inside of him, but he didn’t want to come, not yet. She was so wonderful and so similar to him. His cock fit perfectly into her, as if she was made exactly for that: to welcome and shelter him into her most inner and secret folds.
He felt that Ginny too was close to her climax, her movements becoming slower, her moans louder. But Ron found the force to sit up before either of them could come and he gripped Ginny’s arms and raised her from his penis. Pulling out of Ginny, he locked eyes with his sister and saw incomprehension in her stare at what he was doing. He didn’t lose time in unneeded explanations; he simply shoved her back onto the bed, this time on her stomach. Ron gripped her bottom and lifted it into the air, he positioned his cock at her rear hole and slowly pushed into her.
Ginny sucked in her breath, her panting becoming almost a sobbing as she submitted to her brother. Ron pushed into the hole that he had just stretched a bit, his lubricated cock sliding stiffly into her little opening.
She sunk her head into the pillow and screamed a muffled cry until Ron stopped inside her. His cock unable to move any further, his balls almost touching her ass. He gave her time to get used to it, and when he felt her breath steady, he started to move in her. At first slowly, then getting faster every second. His hips thrusting against her, his cock sliding into the tiniest of the holes.
He gripped her breasts forcefully and made her straighten her back. Pulling her against his torso he brought a hand under her breasts, circling her waist, and another on her nipples, caressing them with lustful movements. He tightened his arm on her stomach and pressed every single inch of her skin to his, raising her from the bed with just his arm and the force of his thrusting.
Ron’s mouth went to her face, and as soon as she felt his wet lips brushing her ear, she turned and they locked their lips into the hottest of kisses. Panting and sweating together, Ron increased his thrusting into her until his sister’s walls contracted around him with waves of pleasure and she had to bring a hand around his neck and find a support to stay up in the air like that.
Her already small entrance contracted around Ron’s cock, and that was too much for him. He came seconds later, spilling his liquid for the second time into her, this time filling her bottom.
They collapsed on the bed, one above the other on their stomachs. Ginny under Ron and Ron on her, his cock still buried into her as he completely emptied himself. His hands were still on her stomach and on her breasts and hers were gripping the pillow with force. Their chests upping and downing with their quick gasps. Ron’s head was lying next to Ginny’s, their breath so hot against their faces.
He kissed her on her cheek and slid out of her. Rolling on his side he lay on his back, his naked body covered in sweat, his skin flushed and hot like never before. He felt Ginny’s hand sneak up his chest and come to rest next to his neck, her right leg slipped up and rested right under his flabby penis, her wet vagina brushing against his side.
They panted and gasped for long minutes, trying to catch the breath that they’d stolen from each other. Finally their chests started to drop and raise at a more controlled pace, and their breath started to become softer.
Ginny snuck her face up to his and she kissed him on his cheek, the kind of kiss that a sister would give his brother. She leaned her light head against his shoulder and sighed. Ron lay still, his heart still beating furiously in his chest.
“We’re damned, aren’t we?” Ginny asked softly, the words a knife to Ron’s ears. He didn’t answer, and she sighed. “I knew it,” she murmured and leaning her forehead against his cheek she fell asleep, leaving Ron the time to contemplate the fact that he had just taken his sister the way he was never supposed to. He felt he should have stood up and walked away, far away from the spring of his sin; but he couldn’t, Ginny’s body against his own felt so good, and he was so tired. But above all, he was too lazy to even think about getting up; and he followed Ginny into a dreamless sleep, smiling and still trembling every time his lover touched him.

Fin
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