Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Come to Play	By : gee25 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 120 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: AI-Generated story. I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter List
- 1-Relaxation
- 2-Goodness
- 3-Pleasant
- 4-Compulsion
- 5-Absolutely
- 6-James
- 7-Fade
- 8-Yours
- 9-Come
- 10-Relentless
- 11-Mirror
- 12-Pink
- 13-Date
- 14-Patience
- 15-Perfect
- 16-Belong
- 17-Gift
- 18-Magic
- 19-Everywhere
- 20-Shatter
- 14
- 15
- 16
Hermione let the door swing shut behind her, the click of the lock echoing in the quiet flat. Her gaze drank him in, this beautiful, naked man kneeling in her entryway. The streetlight from the window painted his back in stripes of shadow and pale gold. His head was bowed, his posture perfect. Her perfect boy.
She stepped out of her low heels, the sound soft on the wood. She let her robes fall from her shoulders, catching them on a hook by the door. She was still in her Ministry blouse and skirt. The contrast—her clothed, him bare—sent a hot, slick rush between her own legs.
She walked towards him, stopping just before her feet touched his knees. “Look at me, Harry.”
His head lifted slowly. His green eyes found hers in the dim light. They were wide, clear, and full of a devotion so deep it stole her breath. His cock, already thick and hard, lay against his thigh, a dark, proud line.
“You prepared for me,” she stated, her voice low.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Tell me how.”
“I showered. I shaved. I used the sandalwood soap. I dressed to look nice for you. I took care of your body.” Each statement was simple, factual, and it made her pussy clench.
“And then you undressed.”
“And then I undressed. And I knelt. And I waited for you to come home and use me.”
Fuck. Her nipples tightened painfully against the lace of her bra. “Stand up.”
He rose in one fluid, powerful motion. He was taller than her like this, his body a landscape of lean muscle and taut skin. The scent of sandalwood and clean, warm man filled the space between them. She reached out and ran a single finger down the center of his chest, over the flat plane of his stomach. His abdominal muscles jumped under her touch.
“You are so hard for me,” she murmured, her finger tracing the line of his hipbone.
“Always, Mistress. It… it hums. All day. It’s better when I know I’m going to see you.”
She let her hand drift lower, her fingertips barely skimming the heated skin of his inner thigh. He shuddered. “And what does it want?”
His breath hitched. “It wants your touch. It wants your mouth. It wants to be inside you. It wants to fuck you until you can’t think.”
“Such a nasty mouth on my good boy,” she whispered, and finally, finally, she wrapped her hand around the thick root of his cock.
He cried out, a sharp, punched-out sound. His hips jerked forward, pushing his length deeper into her fist. He was so hard it felt like iron wrapped in velvet. Hot. Heavy. A bead of pre-come already glistened at the slit. She smoothed her thumb over it, spreading the slickness around the broad head.
“Fuck, Mistress,” he groaned, his head falling back. “Your hand… it’s so good.”
“Is this what you dreamed about all day? At your desk? At the gym?” She began to stroke him, slow and firm, her fist gliding up, then down, twisting slightly at the top.
“Yes. God, yes. I imagined you touching me just like this. I imagined you on your knees, sucking my cock in your office. I imagined bending you over your desk and fucking you from behind.”
His words were fuel on the fire in her belly. “You have such pretty fantasies. But tonight, I have a different one.” She released him, ignoring his soft whimper. “On your knees again. Face my chair.”
He dropped back to the floor instantly, turning to face her armchair. Hermione walked around him, her heels silent now. She settled into the plush chair, spreading her legs. Her skirt rode up her thighs.
“Look at me, Harry.”
He turned his head, his cheek resting against the seat of the chair, his eyes blazing up at her.
“I’m going to sit here, and I’m going to watch you fuck your own fist. I’m going to watch you make yourself feel good, for me. And you’re going to tell me exactly what you’re doing. Every stroke. Every sensation. You’re going to paint me a picture with your nasty words. Do you understand?”
A shudder of pure anticipation racked his frame. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Then begin.”
His right hand went to his cock. He wrapped his fingers around himself, his knuckles white with tension. He gave one long, slow pull from root to tip.
“I’m… I’m stroking my cock,” he began, his voice already ragged. “It’s so hard in my hand. It’s throbbing. I can feel the veins… here.” He squeezed, and a moan tore from his throat. “I can feel my own heat. My skin is so sensitive. Just the slide of my palm is making my balls tighten.”
“Keep going,” Hermione breathed, her own hand slipping under her skirt. Her fingers found the damp lace of her knickers.
He began to move his hand in earnest, a steady, rhythmic pump. “I’m fucking my fist. I’m pushing up into my grip. I’m imagining it’s your pussy. I’m imagining how wet and tight you’d be. How you’d squeeze me.” His hips rocked, driving his cock through the tunnel of his fingers. “I can feel the head swelling. It’s so slick with my own pre-come. It’s making the slide easier. Fuck, it feels so good.”
Hermione hooked her fingers into the waistband of her knickers and pulled them aside. She touched herself, her folds soaked, her clit swollen and needy. She circled it, her eyes locked on his hand working his cock.
“I’m going faster,” he panted. “My balls are drawing up. I can feel the orgasm starting deep in my spine. It’s like a coil. It’s winding up. I’m squeezing the base… I don’t want to come yet. I want to feel it longer. For you.”
“Good boy,” she breathed.
The effect was instantaneous. He cried out, his back arching, his whole body seizing. His hand never stopped moving. “The praise… it’s like pink lightning. It’s shooting through my cock. It’s making everything more intense. I can’t… I’m so close, Mistress. I’m so close to spraying my come all over the floor for you.”
“Not yet,” she commanded, her own touch growing frantic. “Come here. Bring that pretty cock to my mouth.”
He scrambled forward on his knees, his cock jutting out, flushed and dripping. Hermione leaned forward in the chair, gripping the arms. She didn’t use her hands on him. She just opened her mouth.
He understood. With a guttural moan, he guided himself to her lips. The broad head bumped against her mouth, smearing her lips with his salt-bitter fluid. She opened wider, and he pushed inside.
The feeling was incredible. The hot, solid weight of him on her tongue. The way he filled her mouth. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked, hard.
“Oh, fuck! Hermione!” he shouted, his hands flying to the back of the chair, gripping it for balance. “Your mouth… your tongue is on the underside. You’re sucking me so deep.”
She took him deeper, letting him hit the back of her throat. She relaxed, letting him slide further. His pubic bone pressed against her chin. He was fully sheathed in her mouth.
“I’m in your throat,” he sobbed, his hips giving tiny, helpless thrusts. “I can feel you swallowing around me. It’s so hot. It’s so wet. I’m fucking your perfect mouth.”
Hermione moaned around him, the vibration making him shout. She pulled back until just the head remained between her lips, then swirled her tongue around the sensitive ridge. She tasted more of his pre-come, clean and musky. Then she sank down again, taking him all the way, her nose buried in the crisp hair at his base.
His control shattered. “I’m coming! Mistress, I’m going to come in your throat!”
She didn’t pull away. She sucked harder, her eyes locked on his, and nodded.
His orgasm exploded. He roared, a raw, broken sound. The first thick pulse hit the back of her throat. Hot, salty, him. She swallowed. Another pulse. Another. She drank him down, sucking gently, milking every last drop from his trembling body as he shook and whimpered above her.
When he was spent, she let him slip from her lips with a soft, wet pop. He collapsed forward, his forehead resting on the chair between her legs, his body heaving with ragged breaths.
Hermione leaned back, her own need a screaming fire. Her fingers were soaked. “Look at me.”
He lifted his head. His eyes were glazed, sated, but still so full of her.
“You did so well. My perfect boy.” She spread her legs wider, her skirt bunched around her waist. Her knickers were still pulled aside, her pussy exposed and glistening. “Now, clean me up. Use that talented mouth. Make me come, Harry. Fuck me with your tongue until I scream.”
- 14
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- 16
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Come to Play