Of Devoted Husbands and Accommodating Wives | By : TheLastLynx Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Ginny Views: 18889 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not my world, ergo no money-making, giving, or receiving was involved in the creation of this. |
One hasty look at his watch confirmed it: he was too late.
‘Bloody fucking Robards…’
Ginny must have dropped off James at the Burrow ages ago. At this point, Harry would be happy if she was still awake by the time he got home. He grimaced. His plan for their childless evening had been to cook for her; in exchange, she had promised him all sorts of naughty things…
The elevator gates rattled open, and Harry sprinted towards the furnaces. The echo of his heels clicking on the marble reverberated around the desolate Ministry Atrium like a microchronometer.
*
At Grimmauld Place, Harry practically jumped out of the fireplace. There was no-one around. Silencing his shoes, he flew up the stairs, taking them two at a time, to their bedroom. He hoped that at least Ginny wasn’t sleeping. With both of them back at their jobs, he was starting to miss their time together terribly.
It wasn’t just the sex — even though it was phenomenal, thanks for asking — it was about having Ginny to himself; the passionate, witty, silly, cheeky woman he loved like nobody else in the world. One could probably measure his success as an Auror by the number of nights he’d spent at the office; nights he also spent staring at the picture of Ginny on their wedding day. All too often, instead of concentrating on whichever form Robarts needed him to fill out precisely and accurately, his thoughts would slip to memories of their honeymoon.
Harry wanted nothing more but to show her how he felt — in a way that was not changing nappies and feeding the adorable little monster that kept them both occupied.
He reached the landing, and standing stock-still, listened attentively. There was something, a strange sound, but it was definitely not the sound of Ginny sleeping. His heartbeat quickened. There it was again; a low moan, loud enough to sound through the closed door.
Harry’s dick stiffened instantly. Maybe he wasn’t too late after all. Maybe he could make it up to her.
With another Muffliato-charm, the door was effectively muted. Harry carefully pressed down the handle. It opened just a crack.
What he saw through the chink of light that spilt from his bedroom took his breath away.
Ginny lay on their bed, atop the covers, stark naked, her red hair in tangles around her body as though she was a framed work of art. It could have been innocent, if it wasn’t for her slender legs spread wide, moaning, her hands caressing her beautifully freckled skin, the perky breasts with the dusty pink and erect nipples. All the while, she was grinding and moving on a huge, black dildo which was magically moving in and out of her swollen lips.
Harry watched mesmerised as Ginny tilted her hips, her moans becoming lower and throatier. The lips of her quim were stretching from the dildo’s considerable girth. The toy, in turn, increased the intensity of its strokes, and she was clearly loving it. Her hips were undulating in tune with the movement between her legs. White and creamy juices were coating the dark material, sliding down its base and slowly covering the heavy balls. Harry’s dick was throbbing and struggling against its confines. Opening his trousers to relieve the tension, he stroked himself in synch with Ginny being fucked. As she gyrated on the toy, her voice grew deeper and huskier, and Harry knew she was about to come.
His hand sped up; transfixed on the image of the dusky pink of her pussy and the whiteness of her arousal coating the black dildo; the black cock powerfully thrusting into her as if it was chasing its own release. It probably shouldn’t, but it made Harry even harder. He increased his pace, eyes glued to the sight of the massive rod moving the rosy lips of Ginny’s quim as it kept pushing in and out.
‘Fuck.’
Ginny opened her eyes and caught Harry staring at her. With a long, low sigh, she came, never breaking their eye-contact.
‘Fuck. Ginny…’ He was panting, still massaging his raging hard-on and staring at the now unmoving black cock buried deep in his wife’s cunt. A pearl-white drop of her arousal was slowly dripping down its length. He swallowed. ‘That was bloody fucking hot.’
Even though Ginny’s light brown eyes were still glazed-over, there was a mischievous spark in them. ‘Why don’t you join me and my friend then?’
Harry grinned. ‘Are you quite sure you can take another round? You seem pretty... stuffed already.’
‘Oh, silly...,’ she licked her lips and her hands wandered lower, playing with her clit until she finally pulled the black dildo out of her. A trail of magic come trickled out of her, and Harry’s cock twitched at the sight of her glistening, puffy cunt, adorned with spatterings of creamy white. ‘Don’t you know I’m always ravenous for you?’ Ginny looked him straight in the eye and spread her legs.
Harry almost tripped over himself getting to her.
*
After that, the black toy frequently found its way into their bed. Sometimes, Harry would charm it to move in and out of Ginny. Just like the first night, he was mesmerised by the view of her rosy, swollen lips shifting around the black rod. So much so, that he never tired from the sight and sound of Ginny getting off, and he would only stop until she was exhausted and shaking from her orgasms, or until he took mercy on her pleading and filled her up even more.
Harry was not at all ashamed that he enjoyed these almost-threeways. On the contrary. He couldn’t quite decide what turned him on more; Ginny becoming hornier and hornier from two cocks buried balls-deep inside of her, or the sensation of another phallus rubbing against him where he was most sensitive.
‘Bloody greedy witch.’ Harry said one night through gritted teeth, panting heavily as he thrust inside Ginny. He had closed his eyes. The lust in her eyes, her adoring look, the silent expression screaming “more, I need you to bloody fuck me harder” turned him on too much. As did the second cock stroking him just right while her internal muscles squeezed him.
‘Fuck me, yessss.’ Ginny let out a deep, low moan, and Harry forced himself to visualise the Ten Steps to Care for Your Racing Broom.
Step One: vanish any remains of mud and dirt, and...
He thrust away, in and out, in and out, and managed to push Ginny’s moans to the back of his mind.
Step Two…
Harry kept reciting the manual and moved his body in a rythm that had become familiar through years of love-making. He made it to Step Five until the fluttering of her walls around him pushed his sensitive tip against the big black cock, massaging him in the best — worst — way possible.
Harry bit back a groan and he recited step six. Spread Fleetwood’s High-Finish Handle Polish generously all over the handle...
‘Oh fuck!’ His legs started to shake. A shiver ran up and down his spine. With his last effort, he pushed into her a few more times, concentrating not on polishing the broom, but on the tilt of his hips and how it was just like pulling up the broom after a successful dive. He willed his mind to think of the wind in his hair and victory in his hand, instead of the fake cock perversely rubbing against him, right there under the tip where he was most sensitive, throbbing and jerking and finally coming all around him, drenching Ginny, drenching him, in its fluids. A few drops of magical sperm ran down the base of his cock and tingled down his over-sensitised bollocks.
With a cry that was half desperation, half relief, Harry came too.
*
It was a Tuesday afternoon and Harry was waiting outside the changing rooms of the Harpies’ training pitch, as he was wont to do on his rare days off. He had just glimpsed the familiar bright red of Ginny’s hair, when he realised that she was not alone.
The fellow accompanying her, tall and dark, seemed familiar, even though his behaviour was a definite novelty. His usual demeanour, which broadcasted self-assurance and pure-blooded aloofness, was a strange contrast to how he treated the petite, athletic beauty in front of him.
Harry snorted. An idiot would have noticed that Blaise Zabini was trying to chat up his wife. Every time he spoke he leaned closer to her. Ginny laughed and giggled but, almost unnoticeably, increased the distance between them.
This curious little dance went on for quite a while, and yet again, Harry found himself unable to look away. As sure as he was that Ginny wanted only him, he felt a fair amount of pride that a bloke who, by the looks of it, could pick and choose anyone - including men, if one was to trust the chit chat of old classmates - was hitting on his wife.
He marvelled at Ginny’s ease in talking with people. He loved the way she tilted her head and, raising her chin, widened her stance in a way that made her seem a lot taller than she actually was, daring anyone to take her on. With her red hair catching the light Ginny truly seemed to be fiery. His heart ballooned with the depth of his feelings for her.
Even as he stood there, quietly fascinated by this scene right in front of him, it did not escape him that Zabini was wearing a suit. It looked predictably expensive, and Hermione could probably hold an hour-long lecture on how well-tailored or expensive it really was. But what intrigued Harry the most was that it was a Muggle suit.
Zabini was leaning down to her to say something; his grin had turned somewhat wolfish. Ginny, scoffing and pulling on her parka, turned and spotted Harry. She waved. Zabini, looking up, had the good manners to redden, at least.
*
They were lying in bed together, already once exhausted. Harry had his head on Ginny’s belly. She was playing with his out-of-control hair, while he was tracing patterns across her breasts and cleavage, wondering idly about the scene he had witnessed previously and how he could approach the subject; Zabini.
‘He’s not actually serious, you know.’
‘Who isn’t?’ Harry’s fingers kept drawing letters on her body.
Ginny snorted. ‘You know who. Zabini. He’s trying it on with everyone.’
Harry chanced a look at her, and she was smiling carelessly. ‘Well, there is a difference in casual flirting and seriously chatting someone up.’
Ginny laughed and threw her head back. Harry’s fingers skirted up her neck, spelling out more letters. G-I-N-N-Y P-O-T-T-E-R.
‘I know he wants you.’ He leaned down to kiss her softly, and Ginny reciprocated his teasing. He nipped at her lower lip. ‘And I also know that you want him, too.’
Ginny grabbed the hair in his neck with such a passion that it very nearly hurt. She kissed him back almost furiously, sucking at his lips, stroking his tongue, and Harry responded in equal measure. When she finally pulled back, her expression was serious. ‘I will only ever want you, Harry James Potter. Don’t you dare forget that.’
He held her gaze. ‘How could I forget that?’
‘I just thought…’
‘Don’t…’ he continued the stroking of her feather-soft skin. ‘I wanted to…’ he hesitated. As he continued, he searched her eyes and was worried by the apprehension he found in them. He swallowed and started again. ‘Would you like to bring out the toy again?’
Ginny froze in his arms. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ he said and held her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. ‘I would very much like to fuck you with the big black cock, Mrs Potter.’
Ginny’s eyes widened, but Harry held her gaze, hoping that she would realise just how much he, too, was looking forward to it.
‘Well, in that case, Mr Potter,’ she said, wetting her lips, ‘I would very much love to be fucked by the big black cock and your own very excellent dick.’
Harry grinned and lunged for his wand. In the blink of an eye, the lube and the toy zoomed into his waiting hands, and Ginny found herself on her back, her legs spread and Harry kissing his way up, up, up, greedy for the sight of black between juicy pink. Ginny protested for a while, demanding to feel her husband too, but in the end, Harry got his way and fucked her with the other cock first, revelling in the way it moved at every flick of his wrist until it filled her up with the magic come. He was rock-hard by the time he slid into her slick depths. Harry couldn’t recall if he had been turned on that much ever before, having observed something incredibly dirty, and having done something so outrageously pervy, all at once.
*
Every time Harry and Ginny included the Big Black Cock as an almost-third-party in their bedroom games, it became more and more an active participant. While at first, it was just “the toy,” it soon became “it,” and not long after “he.”
At the same time, Harry did not forget Blaise Zabini. Apparently, the feeling was somewhat mutual. His advances on Ginny did not stop after being discovered by her husband. If anything, they became even more brazen. Harry would regularly find a smirking Blaise leaning into Ginny, who was doing her little dance of moving away whilst keeping the intimacy. Almost as often, the man would then look up and his gaze would bore into Harry. And this usually occurred whenever Zabini was trying an even more outrageous move.
Each time this happened, Harry would, at some point, drag Ginny home and they’d have wild, incredibly passionate sex that sometimes lasted into the early hours of the morning — thanks to a never tiring almost-third-party.
‘Do you ever picture another person?’ Harry was feeling content, lying on his back on their living room while Ginny was sprawled across him in all her naked glory and reading the Prophet sports section.
‘Sorry?’ She lifted her head to look at him.
Harry licked his lips. ‘When he fucks you?’
Ginny put down the papers and quirked an eyebrow. ‘Who do you think about when you fuck me with him?’
Harry swallowed. ‘I asked you fir—.’
‘No, no, Harry, none of that.’ Ginny put down the paper and fixed him with one of her intense stares. ‘You’re doing that evasive-Harry-thing again when you’re asking me something you’re actually wondering yourself.’
Harry let his head fall back. He studied the ceiling for a moment. ‘I always think of Zabini fucking you.’ He swallowed thickly.
Ginny gasped. ‘You do?’ Her voice sounded breathless.
‘I know, it’s pretty fucked up, but…’ He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the frantically beating heart in his chest. ‘I like watching you being shagged, I suppose... It’s like… I dunno.’
‘Tell me, please.’
He felt Ginny’s soft hand wandering over his body, soothing the swelling panic, stroking up and down his chest, his ab muscles and finally, wandering lower and lower. The blood rushing through his veins turned hot.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and visualised what he wanted to say. ‘It’s like being a voyeur and an active participant at once. And also you look bloody gorgeous when your being shagged. I can’t see you like that — not properly, not in that way — when I’m the one doing it, so I guess that’s that…’ His voice trailed off.
‘And..?’
Harry wet his lips. All of a sudden, he was incredibly nervous, and it didn’t even make sense. He had already told her pretty pervy stuff as it was.
‘I…’ He hesitated, unsure of how to continue. He was distracted when Ginny wrapped her hand around his aching cock and started pumping him slowly. He bit back a moan.
‘What do you really think when you and he shag me?’ Her voice was velvet soft as her hand moved leisurely up and down, up and down, up and down.
‘F-fuck…’ Her fingertips squeezed him just right and his scruples went out of the window.
‘It feels so bloody good, so fucking tight, him sliding against me, you squeezing me, and then—’ Ginny started massaging his bollocks. ‘— and then when he comes, all the added lubrication and the sensations… it’s just a… it’s ahhh... so bloody good... ’ he choked out the last words, just before he came all over Ginny’s hand.
*
Harry dropped his briefcase onto the kitchen table and sank into a chair. Ginny flicked her wand and two tumblers materialised. She filled them with Firewhisky to the brim.
They clinked their glasses and drank in silence.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Harry finally said into the silence.
‘Really? How so?’ she said, toying with the glass in her hands.
‘I just…’ Harry rubbed his face. ‘They’ve been friends forever. And now they just…’
Ginny reached across the table and took Harry’s hand. ‘But isn’t that precisely the problem?’
‘That they’re friends?’
‘Well, not that, obviously.’ She stroked his hand and Harry was eternally grateful that she was holding him. ‘But it’s been basically forever and it doesn’t seem as if they ever stepped out of their routine.’
Harry felt his stomach twist at the notion that a routine could kill a relationship. He loved the simple, everyday life with Ginny and James. He wouldn’t trade it for the world. In fact, this was what he had always imagined his ideal future to be. The one he had barely ever dared to hope for…
But if this, for most people, meant the death of love and passion then…
‘Stop it, Harry!’ Ginny swatted his hand and he yelped in surprise. ‘I can see what you’re thinking and it’s complete rubbish! Of course it’s not a routine in general that’s the problem. It’s only bad if you only do the same things over and over. If you’re not open to new things.’
His sigh of relief almost startled himself.
‘You silly man.’ Ginny leaned into him and kissed him softly. It immediately helped. It soothed not only his temporary anxiety, but the underlying pain he felt on behalf of his two best friends who, after years and years of being virtually inseparable, had decided to split up.
He pulled Ginny into him, and she sighed into his chest.
‘You don’t need to be afraid,’ she said, her voice muffled by his jumper, ‘that something like that will happen to us.’
‘And why’s that, my darling?’ The ache in his heart was starting to feel more and more numb by the second.
‘Because we won’t let our passion die because we’re too scared to say what we want. Or because we won’t judge the other person if they do. Because I’m not Ron and you’re not Hermione.’
*
That exchange stayed with Harry a long time. Not only because all the particulars leading up to the divorce eventually came out; all the dirty secrets and wishes and unsaid complaints, after years of being bottled up, were finally spilt. It also stayed with him because he and Ginny continued having almost-threesomes, and because Blaise Zabini’s continued presence at Holyhead was the personification of all their spoken and unspoken, simmering desires.
Eventually, it was Zabini’s continued presence that made a burgeoning acquaintance inevitable. Months later, as dinner and drinks with Zabini had grown into a somewhat regular occurrence, Harry had to concede that, surprisingly enough, Blaise Zabini’s best trait was not his good looks. He was quick-witted, rather easy-going, and — what Harry appreciated most — incredibly perceptive.
When he said as much to Ginny one evening after supper, she just laughed.
‘Yeah, those Slytherins… they did age pretty well, didn’t they?’
‘What do you mean by that?’
Ginny considered him with a queer expression. ‘Oh… nevermind. Yes, I like Blaise too. He’s got a wicked sense of humour as well.’
‘And then there’s the not so small fact that he’s constantly all over you.’
‘And you!’
Harry almost fell out of his chair. ‘I’m sorry?’
Ginny guffawed so hard she spilt her drink on the sofa. ‘You didn’t notice?’ She couldn't seem to stop shaking and giggling. ‘Oh my god! The great Harry Potter didn’t notice! The almost youngest Head Auror of all times, and he completely missed it!’
Harry, utterly lost for words, was struggling with what Ginny was implying. If Blaise Zabini had not only been chatting up Ginny, then…
Wheezing for breath, Ginny got up and conjured a glass of water. ‘I’ve been wondering why you never brought it up.’ She hiccuped, swallowing the last few giggles. ‘It just never occurred to me that it had been totally going over your head.’
Harry swallowed with difficulty. He hardly knew what to say to this new and crucial piece of information which, aside from being stunning in and of itself, opened up all sorts of opportunities.
Every now and then, he had played with the idea of inviting Blaise into their bedroom. Imagining Ginny being fucked by a real cock that was attached to a real man had him unreasonably excited. Once or twice, he’d even fantasised about him and the other guy taking Ginny at the same time; one buggering her, while the other shagged her. He always assumed that, in terms of turning the fantasy into reality, that would be the best they could hope for; it didn’t take a lot of imagination that, for most blokes, having their cock rub against another man’s would be a massive turn-off.
If one considered this astonishing new development, on the other hand...
‘What are you thinking?’ Ginny plopped into his lap and ruffled his hair. He caught her hand in his, and pressed an open kiss into her palm. She gasped when his tongue traced the lines on her hand.
‘I’m thinking about inviting a friend to dinner.’
Ginny grinned and leaned down to kiss him sweetly. ‘See. I told you we were different.’
*
It was after another training session in Holyhead that Harry was waiting outside the changing rooms for Ginny, when Zabini swaggered up to him.
‘Potter.’
‘Zabini.’
‘I’ve heard you’re being discussed as the next Head Auror.’
Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘Where on earth did you hear that?’
Blaise leaned against the wall, smirking. ‘A little birdy told me.’
Harry snorted. ‘That can’t be right. Robards isn’t set to leave for a few more years, so it’s far too early to think of any of that anyway.’
‘It doesn’t stop people from thinking about what’s next.’ Blaise shifted and Harry could feel his eyes on him. Realising that he was being sized up, he angled himself away and trained his eyes on the doors leading to the changing rooms, from where he could hear the usual laughing and shouting.
‘People really should make better use of their time.’
Blaise chuckled. It was a throaty chuckle and made Harry grin. ‘It’s incredible that you still can’t stand being the centre of attention. After all those years, one would think you’d have got used to it.’
Harry grinned and shrugged. ‘What can I say, I like to stay in the background. Get on with things. I’m not one to command a huge crowd.’
‘And yet,’ Blaise said earnestly and, almost unnoticeably, moved to stand a little closer to him, ‘you easily could.’ His eyes were dark and sparkling.
The changing room doors opened and there was a crescendo of the chatter and laughter. Harry turned to see Ginny, together with two of her teammates, walking out, giggling and gesticulating before breaking out into peals of laughter. A moment later, she spotted them and waved. Harry waved back. Blaise winked at her.
The women started saying their goodbyes, and Harry turned to face Blaise again who was still following Ginny’s every move.
‘There are others who are far more suitable for that sort of thing.’ His mind went to Hermione and his heart ached for a second, thinking of all the things she had told him which had gone wrong between her and Ron.
Blaise weighed his head from side to side. ‘Yeah, Granger, obviously. Lord knows, she’s perfectly able to crack the whip and bring anyone to heel.’ He grinned slyly. ‘Takes a man of calibre to compete with that though.’
Harry frowned. ‘What do you—’ He was interrupted by Ginny bouncing towards them and flinging herself into his arms. She gave him a sweet, lingering kiss. In fact, she kissed him in a way that would usually be inappropriate for polite company. She nipped at his lips, and slipped her tongue into his mouth, stroking his tongue, while she ran her fingers through his hair in that way that usually drove him wild.
She disentangled herself from him and, even though her lips were already a bit rosy and swollen, she smiled innocently. ‘Hello, boys.’
‘Ginny,’ Blaise said in greeting, although it sounded a lot more like a purr. ‘Always a pleasure seeing you.’
‘Isn’t it just?’ She said lightly, the ghost of a smile playing around her lips. ‘A shame that we tend to see far too little of each other.’
If Blaise was about to respond, he certainly didn’t get the chance. Ginny leaned down to pick up the bag she had just dropped carelessly to the floor and flung it at him. He caught it in one hand, but only just. He stared with wide-eyes at the holdal in his arms.
Harry snorted. Sleek and polished Blaise Zabini had probably never been treated quite like that.
‘Come on, then. Let’s go home. I’m starving,’ Ginny said and pulled Harry towards the fireplace.
Poor Blaise was left with no choice but to follow.
*
Having Blaise in their kitchen could have been odd, strangely enough, it wasn’t. Maybe it was because James was once again at his Nana’s; maybe it was because having Blaise over felt just like being any young couple hosting a friend for dinner — if that friend was prone to flirting shamelessly with both of them.
It soon became apparent that Ginny brazenly kissing Harry in front of Blaise had been the actual invitation. So when she straddled Harry at the kitchen table and kissed him again, even more wildly and aggressively this time, he was aware that Blaise kept watching them. He had a hungry look in his eyes, and as he leaned back into his chair, Harry realised just how much Blaise was enjoying himself.
Out of the corner of his eye and without breaking the kiss, Harry noticed Blaise started stroking himself through his trousers. Harry’s hands skirted along Ginny’s sides, caressing her hips, her back, her neck, eager to make her feel just as good.
She nipped at his lower lip and pulled at his hair, while simultaneously grinding her hips into his own burgeoning erection. Harry couldn’t suppress a moan.
‘Fuck,’ Blaise said in a raspy voice. ‘As much as I enjoy a good show, I do hope you two didn’t bring me here just to be an audience.’
Harry’s heart leapt into his throat. Ginny pulled back and looked at him with burning eyes. They sat like this for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, while Harry kept stroking her back, and she kept sliding her fingers through his hair.
‘I’m a greedy bastard,’ Blaise eventually said. ‘You two must’ve realised by now how much I want you both.’
Ginny leaned down to whisper in Harry’s ear. ‘What do you think? Should we let him replace Him?’
A shiver ran down Harry’s spine. ‘Just this once, you mean?’ he whispered back, excitement racing through his body like fiendfyre.
‘Depends.’ She leaned back into his hands and grinned. ‘Let’s see how he measures up first.’
Ginny said the last bit out loud. A chair scraped loudly over the floor and Blaise was already standing behind her. He peeked over her shoulder, meeting Harry’s eye, and raised an eyebrow in question.
Harry nodded once and managed a lot-sided grin. His heartbeat was starting to rush in his ears.
Blaise put his hands just above where Harry’s sat on Ginny’s hips. He moved closer to stand between Harry’s legs, kneading and stroking Ginny. It started innocently at first, gently touches over her jumper, but soon they became greedy and hungry. His hands disappeared under her jumper, wandering all over her breast, teasing her nipples. Ginny, thoroughly enjoying herself, was moaning and leaned into Blaise’s touches and kisses to the exposed flesh of her neck.
Harry’s dick throbbed. Seeing his wife worshipped by the other man had him torn between joining and watching. All the while Ginny was slowly rocking against him, and it made everything even better. The kisses and touches grew ever more heated. Ginny’s cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright and sparkling. She was the perfect vision of allure and desirability. Blaise was no better; his dark eyes were almost pitch black
‘I think we should take this upstairs,’ Ginny said. Blaise licked his lips and nodded.
Harry’s heart stuttered in anticipation, as Ginny disentangled herself from his lap and pulled him and Blaise to their room.
*
Ginny was lying on her back, a shirtless Harry next to her and Blaise between her legs. She was unmoving and silent but only because Harry was kissing her passionately whilst Baise held her legs as he ate her out. Her chest was rapidly rising and falling, and her beautiful freckled skin was adorned by pretty red spots. Harry’s hands trailed along her stomach and circled her breasts, and, as he did so, he would frequently catch the sight of Blaise who seemed to be having the time of his life.
The way he was gripping Ginny’s legs whilst pulling her closer and closer towards his face, was one indication and only surpassed by the expression of pure, unadulterated bliss on his face. He was so consumed by his task, by Ginny’s reaction to his ministrations, that he hardly took note of how her legs starting to quiver. Not long after, her entire body was undulating with the tremors of her release.
It was the best sight in the entire world; seeing Ginny flushed, excited, worshipped was like flying and winning and the rush of elation Felix Felicis all rolled into one. Harry only noticed that he had stopped kissing her when she pulled his face down to hers and devoured his mouth and lips with her adoration.
‘I love you,’ she said and her voice was coarse.
‘You’re a marvel, my darling.’ Harry carefully traced the blush on her face with his index finger. ‘The most beautiful, daring, exciting woman in the whole world.’ Ginny’s face reddened even more and Harry’s heart expanded in his chest. ‘And now I can’t wait to watch you getting properly shagged. If...’
Ginny’s breath hitched and her eyes wandered to Blaise who was undressing.
‘If? Of course, I bloody want to shag her!’ Blaise laughed; his voice sounded gruff. By now, he was starkers, his considerable length hanging heavy between his legs.
Harry’s excitement spiked; the blood was pumping hot through his veins, and his hands were starting to get a bit clammy.
‘Just one thing first,’ Blaise said and produced a bulbous bottle. He uncorked it and took a deep gulp. He then offered it to Harry who peeked at it suspiciously. ‘Not to worry, Potter. It’s just a Contraception Concoction. Added bonus: it’s spiked with Stamina Solution.’ He grinned roguishly. ‘Just making sure I can go all night.’
Harry chuckled but shook his head no. Still, his pulse quickened. The mere thought of Ginny dripping with seed was already driving him bonkers. Paired with the possibility that the only one who could potentially get her pregnant would be him, made his head spin with desire and his cock throb in anticipation.
‘Want some?’ Blaise shook the bottle in his hand. He was standing tall and proud in all his naked, rather impressive glory. Harry’s eyes wandered lower; Blaise’s cock twitched.
‘I’ll manage, thanks,’ Harry said, grinning. He walked over to sit on the valet stand Hermione had given them a few weeks back. It faced the bed and he was, therefore, perfectly positioned to watch the show.
Ginny moved up on the bed, and Blaise settled between her legs. With a deep, long groan, he sheathed himself within her. Ginny’s eyes widened and she caught Harry’s gaze.
She moaned and spread her legs, angling them slightly.
Harry’s mouth ran dry, seeing the broad and muscled back of Blaise Zabini as he moved in and out of his wife. Harry had a perfect view of his dark bollocks, hairless and heavy, as they slapped against the rosy lips of Ginny’s cunt. As Blaise pulled out again, deliciously slowly, his length was coated with the glittery, creamy sheen of Ginny’s release.
Harry’s own cock ached with need, and he reached into his pants. In tune with Blaise’s rhythm sliding in and out of Ginny, Harry pulled at his cock, stroking up and down, up and down. He was absolutely mystified by the sensation of black and arousal-red of her pussy lips smacking against each other, again and again, the deliciously slick sounds of want and lust were the perfect soundtrack, accentuated by Ginny’s ever deeper moans, and Blaise almost desperate grunts.
Seeing the drawn-up bollocks, Harry realised just how close Blaise was to his release. Still, he went on and on, setting a punishing rhythm with his fucking that made Ginny whimper and sigh. With a muffled moan, the man pulled Ginny’s legs towards himself, spread them wide, and, without ever pulling out, moved up to cover her body with his. Cradling her head with his arms, he continued pumping into her, snapping his hips faster and faster.
To get a better view of both Ginny and what was happening down below, Harry moved around the bed and positioned himself at the door. Leaning against the frame, he too increased the speed of his pumping, stroking his cock firmly, looking from the black cock encompassed in pink glistening with the silvery sheen of arousal back to the blissful expression in Ginny’s eyes which were fixed on him.
The magnificent view of sweaty dark against blushing white, adorned with drops of exhaustion and almost-release running down lean and muscled legs, had Harry’s dick pulse in his fist.
‘Fuck, Red, your cunt feels bloody amazing,’ Blaise pressed out between clenched teeth and sped up his pumps. ‘You’re enjoying that he’s watching us, aren’t you.’
Ginny whimpered, and with a sudden cry, low and short, almost a staccato, she came again. It was a small orgasm; still, Harry stared transfixed at the juices trickling out of her that decorated Blaise’s black dick with thick, pearly drops.
When Blaise made to pull out, Ginny protested. ‘I’m not done. I want to ride you next.’
They moved. Blaise climbed up the bed and laid down onto his back; Ginny straddled his waist. She was still blushing, rosy spots tinting her cheeks and covering her small, perky breasts. Her lips were the shade of her pussy, glistening and dusk-red from arousal. Harry was delighted when he realised that she made to face him. They never broke eye-contact when she slid back onto Blaise.
This view was the best; seeing Ginny, dazed and passionate at the same time, moving up and down a black cock. It was almost like the night that had started everything. Only this time, Ginny held Harry’s gaze as she fucked herself. Back on the bed, Harry could only hear Blaise’s muffled grunting whenever Ginny let herself fall down onto him with force, stimulating them both. His grunt developed into moans when she gyrated her hips and rubbed her swollen clit against his root and balls.
Harry’s hand flew up and down his aching cock. With the other hand, he, too, was fondling his bollocks.
They were now watching each other, acutely aware of their eye-fucking, growing more and more insatiable from the visual stimuli.
Drops sweat were running down the valley between her breasts, dancing around her erect nipples and coating her athletic stomach. His eyes were trying to follow these little things that kept touching her body, but soon he grew distracted by Blaise’s hands grabbing her hips and slamming her up and down his dick, or by Ginny catching his eye as she touched herself all over. Harry didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he was somehow rooted to the spot.
The slapping sounds were increasing in volume and speed again, and Harry's cock was aching so much with desire that, by now, he almost couldn’t bear looking down to were the dark, heavy ball sacs slapped wetly against Ginny’s beautiful cunt.
‘Gosh, yes…’ Ginny was panting heavily. ‘Fuck yes… like that… just… I want to... I need Harry…’
Like a snapped rubber-band Harry was propelled forward. He greedily reached out to Ginny and, like an act of desperation, devoured her lips, touched her breasts, and rubbed himself against where she and Blaise were joined.
The sensation was like none other. Even though he couldn’t see Blaise properly, even though it felt just like it always did when they were playing with Him, the mere knowledge that a willing and horny wizard was there with them made all the difference. Blaise had halted his movements; he was panting heavily.
Harry took his cock in hand and aligned himself, then slowly, pushing forward, his tip slid along Blaise, up and up and up, and soon he found himself encompassed by the familiar wet heat of Ginny. He pushed further and almost blacked out by the sensation of his most sensitive part being squeezed, being rubbed like that, rubbed everywhere.
They started moving, and Harry instantly regretted not having drunk the Stamina Solution. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Just like always, he concentrated on the physicality of it all, on his broom manual, on pleasuring Ginny. Soon he moved in and out of her as he usually would. Rubbing himself, rubbing her, rubbing Blaise.
Harry snapped his hips and Ginny moaned. He gyrated his hips and Blaise whimpered. He could move, he could do it.
Until he opened his. Ginny was staring at him, her cheeks red and her mouth opened, hungry, salivating, but her eyes, the expression in her eyes were indescribable, burning with hunger, lust, love.
He had to kiss her. He leaned down and devoured her mouth, stroked her tongue in tune with their now frenzied fucking.
He continued to pump into her and all of a sudden, Ginny started to shake; her legs were quivering uncontrollably against his, and she moaned into his mouth. The sudden sensation of his legs being sprayed with a liquid startled him, and he stared at her, momentarily struck. Ginny didn’t stop quivering and moaning, and, realising what was happening, he started pumping into her harder and faster, spurred on by his wife’s unending release. The intensity and sensuality and naughtiness made his blood boil, and he sensed the tell-tale tingling taking over his body, racing through his veins like electricity, like a storm, like a hurricane, and he was about to—
‘F-Fuuckkkk!!’ Blaise muffled cry came from the other side, and to Ginny’s essence drenching his balls came the sensation of release dripping hotly down his shaft and caressing his bollocks. Harry, own orgasm ripped through his body as sudden and violently as a lightning strike; it was like falling and flying at once, suspending in free-fall. The momentary sensation of endless power, of overwhelming bliss, reverberated through him. It expanded and ballooned until, slowly, gradually it transfigured into a deep calm.
His eyes found Ginny’s; she looked at him with the familiar expression of “always you” and “forever.” Harry pulled her into his arms and rolled to the side, intertwining their legs. His hands relished the softness of her skin.
‘That was marvellous, Mrs Potter.’
Ginny smiled tiredly. She had her eyes closed and was humming contentedly. ‘Indeed, Mr Potter.’
They kissed and almost forgot all about the third party that was lying next to them.
A/N: Thanks for making it to the end! Thoughts? (Nb. I encourage ConCrit! More information on my profile page.) If you have a question, something to discuss or criticise, you can reach out to me on Tumblr (@thelastlynx) and twitter (@TheLastLynX). Oh, and the chapter title is not, in fact, a type: friendfyre is a combo of the dark spell "fiendfyre" and the lovely porn category "friendly fire"...
Cheers, Lynx.
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