Play | By : DarthGojira Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 7041 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: The characters, setting, and universe of Harry Potter beong to JK Rowling, and I am not making any money off her work |
Professor Longbottom. Neville smiled to himself as he walked from the Ministry Department of Education. He liked the sound of that. It made him sound important, intelligent, and cultured. Neville had long resisted the idea, but Hermione had taught him to trust in his own abilities. As students, she taught him magic and logic, and how to fight for what he believed in. In their first year of marriage, things hadn’t changed. One week it was his ability in home repair magic, another week it was cleaning the house, and another week it was cooking. And only two weeks ago she taught him confidence in bed.
He supposed only Hermione could inspire him to have sex in broad daylight next to Bill and Fleur. He still couldn’t possibly explain what he did. Still, it was the day after she bound him to the bed, dressed herself in a leather corset, and lashed him rigorously with a riding crop. It had been quite an interesting weekend. Neville guessed that as a wizard he should always expect the unexpected, and throughout his many years in Hogwarts he had certainly been flummoxed by the complex events that had happened. Nothing in Hogwarts, however, prepared him for that one weekend.
He knew some pushy llegimens could catch him thinking about sex on the way to the lift, but he couldn’t help it. He had to admit his first time was not with Hermione, who had dating Ron at the time. No, it was Parvati one night in London. A young lonely veteran seeking comfort with another. She had told him it was just for that one night, and that she couldn’t attach herself to him. She had taught him how to have sex, but making love was a different matter.
For that, it was with his first and only true love. He remembered how surprised he was when she and Ron broke up, remembered when she looked to him for solace, remembered her expression when he told her the truth about how he had felt. Their first time together had been at her home while her parents were in hospital. She taught him what she wanted both day and night, and he promised her he would learn everything from her. Hermione was his tutor, his friend, and his lover.
To his surprise, she had told him she was learning, too. She learned to be patient, she said. She learned that she had a nurturing side besides her usual pushy self. She told him that he taught her she was a sexual being. Neville didn’t understand that; he thought he was just telling the truth when he told her how he loved her and how beautiful she was. He was just being honest, and Hermione rewarded him for that. She honestly seemed surprised when he told her, on the day they were married, that this was something he could never have imagined and how blessed he was to have her.
The sudden stop of the floo trip alerted him that he was home. He stepped out of the fireplace gingerly,, only to trip at his robes were snagged on the grate. At least this time he didn’t catch his head. He heard a soft laugh. Getting up from the floor, he saw Hermione reclining on the couch. And she looked fantastic.
She was wearing a slinky dark blue satin dress, and even though she was on her side propping up her head on an elbow, he could make out a lot of skin. The neckline was wide and deep, going as down as her waist and as wide to show the inside curves of her breasts. The skirt was short, revealing exactly how long her legs were. Her expression was different from mix of hunger and apprehension that night when she tied him down, it was a message of absolute seduction. It seemed as if she had given herself completely to the idea of herself as a sex kitten, which made Neville both excited and terrified.
Without a word, she got up, stretched seductively, and walked off to the bedroom, beckoning him to follow. It felt like a trap. “Some traps are worth setting off” Harry had told him. He obediently followed her, his heart drumming in his ears. What’s the worst that could happen? Between dangerous plants, Snape, Malfoy’s gang, bloodthirsty Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself, he had taken quite of bit of abuse to say the least. What could his wife do that was any more painful?
She was waiting in the bedroom, the corner lamp the only light source with the blinds drawn. Her hands on her hips, she seemed to be waiting for something in particular.
“Um, Hermione, why all this? I mean, I’d love to, but why now?” he asked
She shrugged
“Can’t you talk?”
Her brown curls shook from side to side.
“You’re trying to seduce me without speaking a word” Neville guessed.
She nodded, licking her lips and tilting her hips suggestively.
“We have ways of making you talk, Mrs. Longbottom” he put on a playful Snape impression as he walked up to her.
Hermione grinned, but refused to speak or make a sound.
“I’m an experienced interrogator, you know” he teased.
He reached around her to untie the belt holding her dress closed as he kissed her in the way he always did-slow, deep, and almost as if he was sighing.
She kissed him…differently. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was a different kiss that usual. Deeper, more of a pulling, entrapping; it just wasn’t her usual style. She reassured him with gentle strokes of her tongue around the inside of his mouth. He willingly responded in kind, making sure that wonderful mouth of hers was never left alone.
With their mouths busy, Neville took the opportunity to untie the belt at last, and then caress her exposed belly. He felt her sigh in his mouth as his fingers painted lazy circles on the canvas of her skin. His hands moved down to massage her round, perfect bum, inspiring a gasp of pleasure. Not the usual reaction, which was a moan instead, but he knew better than to try to second-guess his wife. With his eyes closed, he didn’t see Hermione reach for his wand and cast a spell.
Suddenly his robes and underwear fell to the floor, leaving him entirely naked. He was by now used to this. When he first took off his clothes in front of her, he was shy and vulnerable, never wanting to expose himself to her. She had to say to him how handsome she found him and how wonderful he was as a person for Neville to uncover himself. Many, many nights had passed since then, and this time he anticipated whenever she took his clothes off.
Kicking his clothes aside, he moved to suck her neck. It was soft and smooth as always, and he couldn’t resist sucking hard enough to leave a mark and then licking the mark he left. He wanted to pamper her like he usually did, make love to her slowly and explore every part of her. He wanted her wet before he even touched her most sensitive area.
It looked like, as usual, she was more than ready to retaliate, as he felt his right ear become engulfed by moist warmth and be eagerly teased with teeth and tongue. Hermione’s mouth traveled down his jaw to make her way to his neck. As usual, he was losing control again, and didn’t mind it a bit.
Still, he couldn’t resist returning his hands to her arse and squeezing it playfully. She gasped and withdrew her lips from his neck. Neville snaked his hands up to cup her breasts, taking advantage of this breathing space.
She gasped, then sighed, as if she hadn’t been touched this way in a long time. Neville frowned. Usually Hermione expected this, often bringing his hands to her breast herself, moaning loudly when he touched her. It was only now that Hermione put her hands on his, pressing his palm and fingers on her sensitive skin and licking her lips at him. She didn’t guide him-he was too experienced for that, but she reacted to the massage as if she hadn’t experienced it before.
Seeing her small pink nipples harden into points at the gentle brush of his fingertips, Neville now expected her to grab his head and bring it to her chest. Instead, she reached for his member. A shudder went through the wizard. As he opened his mouth to gasp involuntarily, Hermione used this moment to grab his head and force it on one of her breasts.
Neville could never tire of tasting Hermione’s breasts. He didn’t know if it was the texture or the taste or the warmth or the reaction or simply the pleasure it inspired in her. He didn’t care, as long as he could do it and as long as Hermione liked it as much as he did. Indeed, he could hear her gasp and cry out. She pushed her chest at him, trying to get more of her into his mouth. He couldn’t resist complying, especially when it elicited more gasps and screams. He pressed his tongue on her nipple, then snaked it to the underside of the breast, and then settled on suckling intently with his lips.
When he repeated the gesture on her other breast, he could feel her losing her balance. He cupped the free breast with one hand and used the other to stroke her smooth back, gently setting her down on the bed. He never broke contact between his mouth and her nipples as positioned himself over her, supported on his arms. He heard her moan, but the moan sounded….different. Before he could think about what this could mean, he felt her legs wrap around him and her rounded arse brushing his erection. He moaned at the sensation, sending vibrations around the captured point and inspiring another moan in turn from her.
Trembling, she pushed him down on the bed. As Neville raised his head to ask what was the matter, Hermione had already grasped his member and sank her head on him
Well, this was unusual . he thought. She didn’t go down on him that often. He usually didn’t ask her to, and she only recently had begun to experiment with it. He didn’t have much time to think, however, and Hermione’s tongue and lips went to their wicked work. Her lips pulled on the taut skin, her hot tongue swirled around him; it took all he had not to climax in her mouth. The gentle suckle turned into a hard pull, devouring him. Neville cried out, barely able to hold on. And then he felt her swallow him entirely, from tip to base encompassed by her mouth. It was too much. With a scream he came hard in a single burst, tensed, and suddenly relaxed.
As he tried to blink away the stars dancing in front of his eyes, she wrapped her fingers around his penis again, trying to move it into position in a desperate attempt to bring it back to life.
“Hermione, I though you wanted me to go down on you before that?” he raised his head from her cleavage.
Hermione’s expression turned from pleasure to confusion to eagerness at the idea, as if he had proposed it to her for the first time. Her eyes flashed and her lips curled into an excited smile, and she nodded to indicate that’s exactly what she wanted him to do. Relieved, Neville gave her nipples each a goodbye kiss and moved down, leaving a trail of nips and kisses down her torso along the way.
He remember her expression when he first asked if he could kiss her most private region. She taught him where she wanted to be touched with his lips, how he should kiss her, and what exactly what to do. His kisses hit the places he had always kissed. His tongue traced the same path around her lower lips and around her clitoris that it had always taken. He felt her hands and thighs trap him in place as she arched his hips into his face. The feeling of being entrapped by her….it was brilliant.
She tasted brilliant, too. He felt moisture on his face; her moisture, just for him. Neville gave her a long lick. He could hear Hermione moan, and despite it sounding unusual, it was still a moan that told him he was doing something right. He rubbed his face on the inside of each of her thighs, not only for the sensation of the soft skin but also to tease out a reaction. He heard a gasp of surprise and felt the thighs squeeze down on him.
Her hands trailed through his hair, fixing him in place. To his surprise, Hermione rolled over, flipping him with her. Hermione then crawled up the bed, still pinning his head between her legs and against the mattress. It’s not that Neville never took this position, but her sudden aggression was something he had only seen out of her lately. Feeling rather daring himself, he dragged his tongue over each of her outer folds before slipping it in between them, and then curved the very tip to caress the underside of her clitoris.
Neville sighed in pleasure at the feeling and taste, sending vibrations into her. He could feel her intense heat, taste her flowing juices, and hear her erratic breathing as she grew closer and closer to orgasm. Just as he felt her begin to twitch, she got off his face. All he could see was her thighs circling his head as she turned around, and then her round, perfect arse as she slid down his body. Before he could ask what she was doing, Hermione had reached his hips and lowered herself onto his prick.
He was hard and ready for her, but Neville couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. She wasn’t fond of this position, and she didn’t go this fast. Still, he met her, eager to feel her again. His hands traced up and down her back then massaged her bum as she began to bounce on him. He didn’t like this position much either. It was like one of those classes where he had to sit in front of her or if Dean or Ron sat between him and Hermione. He had to trust her, had to trust himself without her.
And it’s hard not to trust someone who was having intense sex with him. Neville thrust his hips up to meet her downward strokes, putting his weight on his elbows in order to raise himself. She liked that, apparently, and he could make out her head leaning back. In all this confusion, he had forgotten about her hair. He remembered the first time it brushed him, during transfigurations. Hermione had turned away to talk to Ron about something, and the hair grazed his hand accidentally. One of the first things he did when she told him to put his hands on her was to run his fingers through her curly mane.
The memories egged him on. He had sex with her many times in the previous weeks, more than any other time besides their honeymoon, and this time he realized why the sudden sex craze. The night when Hermione bound him to their bed got him thinking. And each thought made him buck his hips into her. She seemed to have realized how much control she had over him. Sometimes she was overbearing. His pelvis went up at the thought. She had teased him with her power. Up he went again. She had made him feel like a shiny trophy belonging to the world’s greatest Quidditch coach. Up again, this time his cock going deep in one motion.
Hermione leaned back, her hands moving from his thighs to the bed to support her weight. Every time at school that she smiled at him made Neville feel like he was obliged to reciprocate. He’d pay her back in orgasms. She leaned back more, inch by inch as he entered her deeper. Neville reached up, stroking her back then snaking around to cup her breasts and gently squeeze them. He kept his grip, even as she arched and writhed around him.
“Acheve! Ne s'arrêtent pas! Jouiz dans moi!” She screamed. It wasn’t Hermione.
Those words could belong only to one person who would and could do this.
“NO!” Neville yelled, trying to push her off. Fleur was too absorbed in her climax to care what he said or did.
It was too late. As he put his hands on her back, her muscles clenched down on him. It was too tight, too hot, too much for him to hold on. To his horror, Neville orgasmed with the witch, pouring himself into her against his will. The despair, the exertion, the climax, and the sheer horror of what he had just done rushed into his head, and he swooned as Fleur screamed in triumph.
“I am sorry about this. This was all my idea” Hermione-no, it wasn’t Hermione- woke him up.
“Oh Fleur, what have I done? Hermione will never forgive me. I’m so sorry. What have you done? What have I done?” Neville stared at the wall of the bedroom. His voice cracked as he burst into tears, “I-I-I should’ve known…h-h-how could you do this to me?”
“Neville?” What would logically be Hermione’s voice came from the next room.
“Hermione, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” he whispered, unwilling to get up and greet her.
“Neville, I knew about this. Fleur never could have done this if I didn’t agree to it. We wanted to experiment, and now I’m sorry about it.”
“So what now? Did you run off with Bill?” the wizard spat bitterly, still not moving from the bed.
“No, he’s out of the country right now. Fleur sent him an owl a week ago and he said he thought it would be funny. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about it.”
“Would it help you if I told you why I wanted to do this?”
Silence.
“I enjoyed seeing the two of you, and I wanted to take Hermione’s place. It’s my fault” Fleur admitted
“And I wanted to take a body that didn’t embarrass me” Hermione added.
Still no response.
“Neville, get up”
“No”
“Get. Up. Now. I’m trying to apologize for this”
Automatically, he jumped to attention at her tone of voice.
“Hermione, I don’t know what to say”, looking at where the voice came from.
Fleur and Hermione were standing at the foot of his bed. Hermione was naked, and Fleur was wearing a low-cut, semi-transparent blue dress. That wasn’t confusing; it was when Fleur spoke in Hermione’s accent and tone.
“Thank you. Now, are you all right? We’re mature adults here. We’re not in Hogwarts anymore”
“Polyjuice?” he managed to speak.
“Yes. Hermione, I keep telling you. You have a beautiful body” “Hermione” turned to “Fleur”
“I agree” Neville added.
Hermione blushed.
“Neville, can you forgive me?”
“Only if I can try your new body” his tone suddenly lightened.
His wife sighed in relief. Fleur grinned at each of them in turn.
“Oh, and before you go” She said to the man she had just tricked, “you were wonderful”
“I agree” Hermione smirked,, “Now, could you let us have some privacy?”
“If you’re all right with that”.
With that, Fleur left the room and closed the door behind her.
“Hermione, why did you do this? You know I love you for who you are. I married you, not Fleur”, Neville sighed as he got off the bed to embrace his wife.
“Well, I wanted to try it. I wanted to feel beautiful. To be someone like Fleur”, she rested her head on his chest.
“How many times have I said you were beautiful? I lost count just thinking about it in class” he stroked the blonde tresses before raising her head to kiss her. She was taller than before, but not by much.
“Now that I think about it, the whole thing’s rather silly, isn’t it?” Hermione grinned sheepishly.
“Fleur certainly got something out of it”
“I’d like something out of it, you know” the grin turned into a smirk.
Neville kissed her again. “There”
“More than that” Despite her new features, Hermione’s eye-rolls were unmistakable.
“I did just finish with Fleur a little while ago” he protested, his insincerity shown by his sucking and kissing her neck.
“Neville, you’re better than that. Seventh year you showed me exactly how much stamina you had”
“Please don’t talk about it. I don’t want to remember that year” he looked up from nuzzling her cleavage.
“I want to forget it, too. I won’t talk about it.” Hermione kissed him on his forehead as he kissed the exposed flesh of her breasts.
“Could you untie this thing? I like it, but I want this off” she spun around to give Neville her back.
Hermione’s husband couldn’t resist kissing her bare back, sucking on the skin on the back of her neck before trailing his lips down to her lower back to the line of her dress, his hands in turn running along the curves of her perfect arse.
“You like my new body?” She closed her eyes, sighing at the sensation.
“It’s not the one I love, but it’s magnificent on you” Neville left one more kiss on her back as he undid the ties on the back of her dress and moved up to nuzzle the straps off her shoulders.
He then stepped back as Hermione finally slipped the dress off.
Fleur’s body was a piece of art. Very different from Hermione, but very similar at the same time. To tell the truth, Neville had never been very attracted to Fleur. While Ron had overlooked Hermione to swoon over Fleur, Neville had been too busy trying to get Hermione’s attention. Hermione was a Veela in her own way.
It wasn’t the body he worshiped, but it was worth the worship all the same.
“It’s an improvement.” Hermione beamed at him.
“Have it your way” Neville sighed as she moved in for a kiss.
“I always do-oh!”-Her smugness was interrupted by his long suckle on her neck.
He kissed his way down her body, pausing to take a nipple in his mouth. Fleur’s were lighter in color, with wider aureoles and smaller tips on larger, heavier breasts. They were still delicious, and Hermione’s gasp showed they were just as sensitive.
“That’s it?” she asked as Neville pulled back to kiss the flesh below, a disappointed expression on her face.
“Oh, I’ll be back. Don’t you like this?” He punctuated with another kiss.
“Oh yes” she closed her eyes, unable to protest any more.
He continued down her body, kneeling to kiss her belly and navel, but she pulled him up for a kiss and turned around to lean back against him. To tease him, she rubbed her knickers-clad bottom against his erection. As she leaned back, she placed his hands on her abdomen, which he obediently caressed with his palms. Inch by inch, those hands crept up the smooth belly, each motion causing a shiver to rock Hermione’s (or was it Fleur’s?) body.
“I love the way you use your hands” Hermione moaned as Neville’s fingertips tickled the bases of her breasts.
Neville wasn’t sure what he enjoyed more, the feeling of the soft lower curves of her breasts resting in his palms, or the moan from Hermione’s lips. Even after he gently pulled upwards and squeezed gently, Hermione’s soft cry responding in kind, he still couldn’t decide.
“Whenever I see you patting down the soil, I always picture your hands on my skin. When you run your hands through the soil, I think it’s my hair. I love this new body of mine-take all of it” She gasped out as she put her hands on his, squeezing harder and leaning her head back.
He could spend an eternity like this-feeling the soft spheres in his hands and tasting her exposed throat as she moaned and gasped. She felt wonderful, tasted better, and sounded ever better. For some reason, he didn’t have a problem that it was Fleur’s body. It was still Hermione under there, still his wife feeling the pleasure, his wife’s voice crying out her love.
“I want more” she whispered as he gently squeezed again. Reluctantly, Neville let go long enough for Hermione to lie down on the bed, staring up at him with absolute hunger. Even with a different face, Neville knew that look. It was the look she gave him when she whipped him. It was the look she gave him when he disrobed in front her for the first time, and it was a look he couldn’t resist.
He sat down beside her on the messy bed, and leaned down for a kiss. Neville would always kiss her before doing anything else. Hermione counted on it, and she deserved it. Even with Fleur’s lips, Hermione’s kisses would never be missed if Neville had something to say about it.
“Where should I start?” he asked her.
“You know me” Hermione suggested
“Then this should make your toes curl-“ Neville smiled, then sucked on her neck.
“Oh yes” She sighed
“How about this?” With that, he planted kisses around the curves of each of her breasts, then sucking on the rounded slopes.
“You know I love that” Hermione gasped in pleasure. Neville loved that sound. He knew Hermione loved to have her nipples sucked on, but he in turn loved to torment her, to taste every bit of her flesh to drive her crazy. He lick, kissed, nipped, and sucked on her white, rounded breasts, but avoided the nipples.
“Neville, please!” She begged.
That was the signal. First the very tip of his tongue, then his lips, then his hungry mouth made contact with one of the hardened points. Hermione arched her body, giving her body over to him, wanting him to suckle as much as possible. He obliged, taking in the offered breast. It had a different size and shape than her own, but as long as they were hers, Neville could do this for an eternity.
It was only when he heard her familiar cry of orgasm, feel her muscles tense under his fingers, and feel her grip on his head relax and push him downward, that he moved to the soft, flat plain of her stomach. He did so as slowly as possible, but she didn’t seem to mind. She told him many times she enjoyed how slow he did things, and he made each little nip, lick, and suck seem to take an eternity
His hands joined his mouth, but only momentarily as they first darted up to press the neglected breasts, then down to caress her still-clothed hips.
“Should I eat you again?” He looked up from her heaving belly.
“Again? That was Fleur, not me. And I want you to do to me what you did to her, and that means everything”
“If this was schoolwork, I’d take a break by now” Neville nuzzled the belly button.
“You’re a better st-Ah! S-s-student than-than-oh!” Hermione couldn’t finish speaking due to the tip of Neville’s tongue circling and then diving in to lick up and down the vertical cleft of her navel.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk” He chuckled as he pulled the knickers off.
“This is the best-AH!-use for-OH!-your mouth” she was interrupted again as he returned to her flat stomach and kissed his way down her mound. As he nuzzled her tawny golden pubic hair, Hermione had a thought.
“Neville, did you try to ask out Fleur like Ron did?”
“No. I had you in mind the whole time. I thought that while Ron could be with Fleur, I’d have a shot with you. Viktor got there first”
“Oh. So you’re not enjoying this?”
“I didn’t say that. Fleur’s beautiful, and as long as it’s really you in that body and you’re enjoying this….aren’t you?”
“I never faked an orgasm. I don’t know how”
“In that case-“ He stopped talking to kiss below her opening.
This time he didn’t stop. He just kept going-kissing, licking, tasting the area around her. He suckled on each lip, laving them with his tongue. He heard Hermione scream and cry out as he plunged his tongue into her vagina, probing deep and pressing as hard as he could into her before licking up her juices. Each lick he re-assured himself that this was Hermione. This was the only friend he had at first. This was the shy, bucktoothed girl who helped him look for Trevor when they first met. This was the same girl who gave him the help and support he needed at Hogwarts. This was the girl he longed to tell that he loved, but never did. The same girl who, even when she was presumed dead and he was suffering at the hands of murderers, kept him alive and gave him the spirit to fight. The same girl who ran into his arms one rainy night sobbing and told him she loved him. This was Hermione.
And she loved him. He still couldn’t believe it. No matter how many times he heard her cry out his name, Neville felt as if he was living in a dream. Well, if it was a dream, he didn’t want to wake up.
“Finish me! Don’t stop! “
Putting his mouth on her clitoris, he took a moment to look up at her face while keeping in contact. Her smooth belly was tensing, her breasts heaving with each shuddering breath, but he looked past the body. Fleur’s face was contorted her neck arched to throw her head back, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth open in a gasp. He kept in mind that this was his wife, his beloved Hermione. He had seen her, touched her, and tasted her many times before. This was no different.
With that though, he gave her clitoris one last suck and held on to her hips in anticipation of what happened next. Right on cue, she came. He struggled to keep his grip on as she bucked her hips into his face, determined to devour her to the very end and suck her dry. He was used to this. It was all part of that lovely routine. He would hold on until she stopped moving and caught her breath, and then he would talk to her and ask her if she wanted anything more.
“Oh yes. I mean, if you’re up to it and you’re not too tired”
“You’re not tired?”
“Never for you”
“Same here”
“I love you, Neville”
“I love you, Hermione”
No sooner than he sat up, Hermione on him, kissing him into a daze.
“You’re not too tired” he concluded, and then kissed her in kind as he grabbed her hips and lowered her onto him.
She didn’t speak, communicating her intent by wrapping her long legs around his waist and driving himself deeper into him with a thrust of her hips. She only broke her gaze into his eyes to cry out as Neville drove even deeper into her, using his grip on her soft buttocks to grind her hips on his. He felt her clench around him, but this time he was ready and didn’t lose his control.
He knew her rhythm, and began the series of thrusts that drove her wild. Putting his hands on Hermione’s smooth back, he drew her to him, buried his face in her chest, and pumped as hard as he could into her. Hermione didn’t put up a fight; she cried out in pleasure, gasping out wordlessly. She was beyond words now-only actions mattered, and she communicated her desires well enough for him to understand.
Even so, Neville had to admit he couldn’t last too long. He was quickly losing control, but was determined to make Hermione come with him. He thrust in harder, sending her reeling backwards in shock. Before she could recover, he returned to her chest, sucking quickly on one nipple and then the other. When this made her throw back her head and moan loudly, he repeated the gesture, this time just as he went into her again.
He felt Hermione’s grasp tighten and then let go. It was obvious she was losing control herself: when he moved up to kiss her neck, she only had the presence of mind to kiss him again before Neville plunged into her body so hard she began to fall backwards. This time, he couldn’t control. He threw himself into her, going deep into her warmth in a frenzy of strokes. There was a white flash like he was hit with a stunner, but Neville was used to that. Both getting stunned and orgasming.
Hermione screamed, her arms reaching around him and pulling his head to her chest. He loved this feeling. The feeling of her arms tightened around his head, her legs around his hips, her inner muscles around his prick; it was something he could never get tired of, even with Hermione’s new body.
She leaned back one more time, than came. It wasn’t a violent orgasm. It wasn’t a loud one. She was much louder leading up to it. Still, he felt her shudder around him, then settle down as he panted into her cleavage.
“It wasn’t any better than usual, you know” Neville whispered
“That’s because you set a high standard” Hermione kissed the top of his head
“I wasn’t complaining. I don’t complain” He kissed her chest in return
“If you did, I’d still do this anyway”
With that, they collapsed on the bed, still facing each other. Their gaze never broke.
“Hermione, I’d like to make a rule for once”
“I was hoping you would eventually”
“Please don’t play with polyjuice again.”
“What about these…surprises I keep giving you?”
“Oh, those can keep on coming”
The end.
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