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The Happy Hotwives of Hogsmeade	By : Wimp36 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 33577 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, any of its characters, premises, or related information from either the books or movies. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5 — Hermione and Ron, Part II

For the next several days, Hermione did her best to forget her night eavesdropping on Marcus. She threw herself into her work, visiting remote outposts of the Ministry and meeting with officials from the Irish Ministry.

Despite her best efforts, she seemed unable to avoid those thoughts, whether it was during a meeting with the minister, who reminded her more than a little bit of an older Marcus; at the gym, where she saw plenty of well-built men; or at home, where she seemed to run into Marcus nearly every day. Two days after “the night,” she was just getting in the lift when Marcus came up from the building’s basement gym, shirtless and glistening with sweat, with the shape of his cock clearly defined through the fabric of his shorts. She nearly fell over from the combination of the sight and his musk.

Ron was a great beneficiary of her increased libido and her guilt that he wasn’t its source. Every night that week she would tackle him into bed as soon as they were together in the evening and ride his face to completion before either sucking him off or finishing him with her hands. She also spent quite a lot of time with her new dildo shoved up her cunt, either alone or with Ron.

She was reasonably certain that she had hid her fascination with their neighbor from Ron, until she came home from work late one day.

Exhausted, she kicked off her heels and poured a glass of wine, not even bothering to see if Ron was in. Deciding that she needed a bath before anything else, she padded towards the bathroom, only noticing the sounds coming from the bedroom when she was just outside the door: it was Ron’s voice.

“That’s it,” he was saying. “Give it to the minx…fuck…”

Had he brought home some porn? She knew that the joke shop had a rather extensive collection of pornography and sex toys (mostly handled by Angelina) and that Ron helped himself from time to time. She lingered outside the door.

“Merlin, that thing is big. Fuck…Hermione…”

She froze. Had he noticed her? No. It was part of the fantasy, whatever that was.

Carefully, she drew her wand and cast the same observation spell she had used before, the door becoming transparent. In the bedroom, Ron lay on the bed naked. He had a booklet with moving images held in one hand. Oddly, he had secured her dildo to the headboard directly over his face, and alternated his attention between the booklet and the cock. His own cock was rock hard, though pitifully small seen in such close proximity to the dildo.

Adjusting her spell, she zoomed the vision in so that she could see the pamphlet. Unsurprisingly, it was porn, but its content made her immediately gush with arousal. The pictures depicted a young white woman with short brown curls riding a massive black man, her pussy spread impossibly wide on his shaft. Ron turned the page and the scene changed, showing the man pounding into the woman from behind. To Hermione’s shock, the image depicted a second man sitting off to the side, rubbing his cock through his briefs.

Hermione slid a hand into her trousers as Ron turned to the next page. Here, the woman beckoned to the seated man, who lay down on the bed. She straddled his face, and he began to lick her pussy while the larger man stroked himself. Ron turned the page again and his cock twitched. He reached for his cock, which tilted his torso enough for Hermione to see the page: the black man slid his cock into the woman, dragging his balls across the smaller man’s face at the same time. The small man kept licking. Ron tugged at his cock with two fingers.

“Oh yeah, Marcus,” he said. “Fuck her for me! Fuck!”

Hermione was shocked. Not only was Ron masturbating to porn and imagining a scene that involved her, he was masturbating to the thought of her being fucked by another man, with him in a clearly subservient role. And, to top it all off, it wasn’t just any man: it was Marcus, the man that she had been obsessing over for the last week!

She could feel herself nearing her climax, and began taking deep breaths to calm herself. She tried to control her racing libido, but it was no use. Knowing that the best thing to do would be to go back to the entrance, loudly shut the front door, and pretend she had just got home, she instead returned her attention to Ron, who was fully enraptured by the scene unfolding on the page in front of him. Wickedly she charmed the door so that it would open silently, and waited, knowing that it wouldn’t be long now. Just at the moment she saw Ron’s body tense in preparation to orgasm, she flung the door wide.

“Well this is interesting,” she said.

Mid-ejaculation, Ron flailed around in the bed, knocking the dildo flying and hurling the magazine into the corner while trying to pull a sheet over himself. The results were comical to say the least.

“Hermione! This isn’t…”

“What it looks like?”

Ron turned a brilliant red.

“Well…”

Hermione flicked her wand and the pamphlet flew to her through Ron’s outstretched fingers.

“Very interesting,” she mused, teasingly. Her eyes were fixed on the images in the pamphlet and her pussy seemed to throb in response. “Would I find other material like this if I checked your closet?”

Ron’s blush deepened.

“Show me.”

“Hermione, I…” stammered Ron.

“Show me.”

Shamefaced, Ron stood, his limp cock shriveled down to be just barely visible through his pubes, and walked to his closet. He disappeared briefly and then came back with a stack of similar pamphlets. Hermione held out her hand and he gave them to her. Hermione sank down onto her chaise lounge and extended a foot.

“I’d love a foot massage if you don’t mind, Ron.”

“Sure…just let me grab my clothes…”

“You’re fine like you are. Sit down.”

Ron sat on a nearby hassock and took Hermione’s foot. He began to rub as she leafed through the pamphlets.

“Seems to be a few recurring themes to these Ron. How long have you been collecting?”

“For a while…”

“What’s a while?”

“Since a week after we moved in.”

“What started all of this?”

“Well…you know how you had to work the morning we moved in? Well, before I could start magicking things up to the flat, Marcus turned up and offered to help. He had a girl with him and she kept up company. She kept touching his arms and talking about how strong he was, and teasing me a bit because I could only carry one box at a time.”

“And it made you horny?”

“Unbelievably horny.”

“And?”

“And then there was the other night…you and Naomi talking about Marcus and that girl he brought home. It made you horny, which made it so much worse for me! I couldn’t take it! And then you brought out the dildo after I couldn’t get it back up…it was almost like one of my fantasies coming to life!”

“What fantasy?”

Ron blushed and Hermione pushed a foot firmly into his chest.

“Tell me.”

“That it was Marcus fucking you, and I was only there to watch…or to help him please you.”

“Is that what you want? You want me to get fucked by a bigger cock?” Wickedly, she continued, slipping a hand back into her trousers. “You can’t please your wife so you want me to find a better man to do it for you?”

Ron hung his head, but his hands never stopped kneading her foot.

“Yes.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me.”

“I want you to find men who can please you, Hermione. I want you to be satisfied, and I can’t do it.”

“I should go fuck bigger cocks?”

“Yes.” Ron’s cock was rock hard.

“Should I go knock on Marcus’s door right now and ask him to do it? To come in here and fuck me in our marital bed?” She was close to an orgasm of her own, and she could see Ron’s cock twitching with arousal.

“Merlin, yes,” panted Ron.

Hermione came, her pussy clamping down on her probing fingers and gushing with liquid, which soaked through her knickers in an instant.

“Fuck!” She cried. “There’s time for that later!”

She leapt to her feet, sending Ron sprawling backwards and tore off her clothes as fast as she could. Before Ron could rise she squatted over his face and lowered her pussy to his mouth.

“Lick. Prove that there’s at least one way you can satisfy your wife!”

As Ron began to lick desperately at her cunt, she grabbed hold of his cock with, which was as hard as it had ever been, with two fingers and her thumb, and started to tug it aggressively, grinding her pussy harder into his face as she did. Ron was usually an excellent pussy licker, but she wasn’t in the mood to let him take his time, and her berating him seemed to be driving him mad with lust.

“Fuck! I wish this cock could satisfy me! But it’s useless!” With a sudden whimper, Ron came, splashing cum onto her chest, but she kept her pace, drawing gasps from him as he strove to please her. “Come on, Ron! At least you should be able to satisfy me with your tongue!”

She continued to taunt him as he gave an earnest effort to please her. All the while, she kept jerking his cock, not letting it get soft. He had two more orgasms in quick succession, but hers was still tantalizingly far off.

“For fuck’s sake, Ron!” She snapped, releasing his tortured but still rigidly erect penis. “I really need to teach you how to do that better. Come here. She lay on the bed, legs open, and summoned the discarded dildo. As it flew to her, a quick spell changed its to a dark mahogany color and a more flesh-like appearance, as well as growing a little bigger. “Lick my pussy while I suck this beautiful cock for a minute. Nice and slow, that’s it.”

A flick of her wand left the cock hovering over her face. As Ron licked tenderly at her pussy, she kissed the massive balls and licked all the way up the shaft.

“Mmmm,” she purred. “Your cock is so big, Marcus! I’m not sure it can even fit in my little mouth.”

Ron moaned as she gave voice to the fantasies that had swamped her brain for the last week. She lowered her head and took the first few inches of the dildo into her mouth, letting it spring free with a wet popping sound.

“Nice and slow, Ron,” she said, licking the length of the dildo again. “Nice and slow while you listen to your wife worship a real cock.”

Obediently, Ron attended to his task, and she felt a warmth growing in her vagina that she rarely received from Ron’s ministrations. She sucked on the dildo, getting it as wet as possible, ropes of saliva trickling down onto her breasts.

“Ask him to fuck me,” moaned Hermione, who was nearing another climax and desperately wanted to feel the fullness of a cock in her.

“Please fuck Hermione, Marcus,” whined Ron, looking up at the sight of Hermione’s smeared makeup and wet breasts. His own face was shining with her arousal.

“Since you asked nicely,” said Hermione. She quickly affixed the dildo to the bed and mounted it reverse-cowgirl. It was a position that she’d wanted to try ever since seeing it depicted in a porno film that she’d stolen from her parents’ collection a few summers ago, but one that Ron wasn’t big enough to allow. Feeling herself stretch around the massive cock, she moaned deep in her throat. Without being asked, Ron leaned in to continue licking her pussy. Hermione pushed him away as she bounced on the dildo.

“Lick my feet, Ronald,” she said. “No pussy for you until Marcus has filled me up with his tasty cum!”

Moaning, Ron obeyed and Hermione settled into a rhythm, the dildo filling her agreeably with each bounce as Ron’s tongue caressed her toes. She could tell that she was getting close, and cast a few discrete charms on the dildo.

“Marcus is about to make me cum! I’ve never cum on your little cock, Ron, but this big, beautiful, black cock is going to make me cum like I’ve never cum before! Get back up here and thank him for making your wife cum! Kiss his balls to say thank you!”

Ron was far gone, sliding up and kissing one of the suddenly extremely life-like balls.

“Thank you, Marcus,” he said. “Thank you for making my wife cum!”

“Worship those balls, Ron,” ordered Hermione, bouncing harder and faster. “Worship them, and beg him to fill me up with cum!”

“Ooooh,” moaned Ron, nearly cumming himself from Hermione’s taunting. “Please, Marcus: please cum in Hermione! Fill her pussy up with your cum!”

“Are you going to clean me up after?” Asked Hermione, her eyes now closed in rapture. She took hold of a nipple in each hand. “Just like in your magazine? You’re going to clean his superior load out of my pussy?”

“Yes! Yes! Cum in her! Cum in her and I’ll clean it for you both!”

Ron was lapping furiously at the dildo’s balls now, occasionally licking part of the shaft or Hermione’s dripping folds. With a final scream of ecstasy, Hermione came, releasing the spell on the dildo which caused it to shoot a literal pint of artificial (but very realistic) cum into her spasming pussy. She collapsed back onto the bed, panting, as cum started to ooze out of her.

“I want you to finish in me, too, Ron” she said, suddenly gripped by an idea. “But only if you promise to lick up every last drop!”

“I promise!” Ron eagerly thrust into her overflowing channel. She barely felt him.

“I can’t even feel your cock, Ron,” she teased, licking fake cum off the dildo. “Marcus has really ruined me for your pathetic little cock. Go ahead…add your mess to his glorious load and then get to work.”

With a whimper, Ron came, adding a few weak spurts to the fountain of strong, thick seed that was flowing out around his cock. Before his post-orgasm clarity could kick in, Hermione seized Ron’s head and pushed him back down, pulling his mouth onto her pussy. She needn’t have worried: the second Ron was in position, he began to guzzle, eagerly licking up both his own load and all the fake cum. In mere moments, it was done, and he leaned back on his heels.

“Wow,” he said, panting a little.

“Wow, indeed,” said Hermione, leaning down to kiss him. “That was so hot. Do you really want me to try it with a real guy?”

Both of them were well-and-truly sated at this point, and their minds were clearing of the fog of arousal.

“Um,” began Ron, and Hermione came to the rescue.

“Tell you what,” she said. “I need a bath. You take a quick shower while I get some more wine, then go get dinner while I have a bath…I’m in the mood for a curry. Do some thinking, and we’ll talk over some food.”

Two hours later, Hermione wiped the last of her Saag Paneer up with a piece of roti, smiling. Ron was blushing furiously as he finished his beer. The two had had a very serious talk, and life was about to get rather interesting.

The next morning, Hermione headed off to work as usual, but with an extra sense of purpose. She had dressed with her mind partly on what she planned to do after work, and had put on her sexiest set of lingerie — black lace stockings, garter, bra, and thong — a shorter-than-usual (and short-than-appropriate for high government office) skirt, a nearly sheer silk blouse that she left open almost half-way, and her tallest pair of heels. Rather than her usual, somewhat severe bun, she combed her hair out and let it fall in a fashionable tumble around her shoulders. She even opted for provocative in her makeup, choosing a lurid shade of red for her lipstick and using more mascara than she would for anything short of a hen-do.

As a last touch, while she showered, she had trimmed her pubic hair into a neat strip above her pussy, luxuriating in the smooth feel of the skin around her mound.

Ron had left before her, so she would be able to surprise him with the look when she got home. Any imagining that he did based on it was fine by her, though she intended to capture more than imagined pleasures.

She admired herself once more in the mirror. Satisfied with her appearance, and knowing that her official robes would cover it most of the day, she left the apartment to her first stroke of luck of the day, as Marcus was leaving his flat at the exact same moment. Dressed for work in a well-tailored suit that bulged agreeably around his arms, chest, and legs, he fairly oozed sexuality.

“Mornin,’ Hermione,” he said. “You look incredible today. Hot date later?”

“I hope so,” said Hermione, flirtatiously.

The elevator ride was interminable. She could barely stop herself from sliding down to her knees and pulling out his cock, but knew that it had to wait. Ron had given her permission to have fun without him, but she couldn’t be late for work today. Instead, she gritted her teeth as the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne and personal musk turned her pussy into a faucet. She let out a deep breath when Marcus took his leave, headed for the nearest tube station.

Hermione reached into her purse and touched her name badge before raising an arm as if to hail a cab. All at once, a black cab skidded to a halt in front of her building and she opened the back door, stepping through it directly into her office at the Ministry. The transport method was one of her better inventions: secure, instant, and undetectable by muggles. In her office she saw that one of the assistants had already left a stack of reports on her desk as well as a request from the minister to help him with a speech after lunch.

She worked undisturbed all morning. As usual, she finished everything that needed attending to well-before noon. She would usually count on an influx of new reports and messes to clean up in the afternoon, but with it being a Friday, most departments would be winding down any activities that might send more work her way. She anticipated an early day, and was just starting to think about where she might get lunch — the Ministry provided a generous per diem that she refused to not take advantage of — when a knock came at her door and one of the Minister’s aides, a tall young man with a slightly nerdy aspect, popped his head in

“Madame Granger?” He asked, a little timidly. Hermione could see his eyes dart down to her prominently displayed cleavage and then back to her face.

“Yes, Stephen?”

“The Minister asked me to see if you were free now. I think he’s worried about the speech.”

“Of course. Tell him I’ll be right there.”

The boy left and Hermione stood up, stretching. She liked Stephen for his competence and encyclopedic knowledge of wizarding law, but she wished he would dress better. She suspected that if he got a new wardrobe and stood up straight — he was always slouching to disguise the fact that he was taller than almost all of his superiors — he would be far more confident, not to mention more than a bit sexy.

She took a moment to straighten her clothes and checked her appearance in the mirror in her private washroom. Not bad, but she figured that she ought to cover up at least a bit before meeting with Kingsley. She was about to do up a few more buttons and put on her robe when she heard the office door open.

“Hermione?” Came Kingsley’s deep voice.

“Yes, Minister?” Said Hermione, peering around the washroom door.

“Stephen said you were free…would you mind helping me with this speech over lunch? The American delegation has been particularly annoying lately, and I don’t want to give them room to wiggle.”

“Of course!” Said Hermione, regretting that she hadn’t had the time to make herself just a touch more modest. She saw Kingsley as a slightly paternal figure, though, at the moment, she was having a hard time with it.

Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt usually dressed in full formal robes and carried himself with a professional aloofness that projected just the right amount of authority. Now, however, he was dressed more casually for work in the office in a well-tailored light blue shirt, tan braces, and well-cut navy trousers. His enormous feet were in a pair of hand-made dragonhide shoes that likely cost more than she paid for rent in six months.

Hermione was one of the few people who got to see the casual side of the Minister on a regular basis. She usually liked the trust that was implicit in this gesture. Just now, however, she was noticing just how well Kingsley’s chest filled out his shirt and how hard and flat his stomach was. His arms pressed tightly into the fabric as well, and the sleeves were rolled up to show some very sexy forearms. She couldn’t help glancing down discretely as he turned his head to listen to something that Stephen was saying in the outer office. Below his waist, a rather large bulge was evident against the looser fabric of his trousers. She nearly licked her lips.

“Shall we?” Asked Kingsley, turning his attention back to Hermione.

“Of course,” she said. He closed the door and it immediately shrank to something about the size of a car door. He opened it again and stepped out onto a London sidewalk. Hermione followed. Kingsley ushered her into the restaurant, which Hermione knew from previous visits to be one of his favorites.

Together at a corner table, Hermione and Kingsley shared a light lunch and a bottle of wine while working out the finer points of the speech he needed to give that afternoon. As Hermione expected, the speech was nearly perfect already, but Kingsley always fretted that he would miss a tiny detail that would throw things off track. Hermione pointed out the two minor flaws that she found, and helped him fix them within five minutes. The remainder of their meal was extremely convivial.

They talked briefly about Harry’s somewhat disgraceful exit from the Auror department, which was still the talk of the ministry. Kingsley at least was trying to find out if he was all right, not simply looking to gossip, but they quickly turned to less disagreeable subjects.

“Not to pry,” said Hermione, accepting a refill of her wine glass, “but are you still seeing that Welsh witch? I’m sorry, I forgot her name.”

Kingsley flapped a large hand.

“No. I’m just too busy for a woman who needs an attentive man. She was wonderful, but she always wanted me to commit to spending more time with her than I could. We may have defeated Voldemort, but the Ministry is by no means a slow place.”

“That’s an understatement,” said Hermione. “But you really should try to find someone.” The wine made her bold, and she added, “like a fuck buddy.”

Kingsley snorted.

“That’s a phrase I never thought to hear from you, Hermione.”

She shrugged, smiling coyly.

“I’m full of surprises.”

“We should get back,” said Kingsley, checking his watch and draining the last of his wine. “I’m sure that you’re done with everything that needs doing, but will you stick around until after my speech? If there’s any cleanup to do, I’ll need to brief you.”

“Of course,” said Hermione. She finished her wine as well. “I’m all yours.”

She lead the way out of the restaurant, feeling Kingsley’s eyes on her legs as she did, and smirked to herself as she hailed the transport window back to the ministry.

Kingsley left Hermione waiting in his office while he went to deliver his speech to the Wizengamot and conduct brief negotiations with some American wizards that would be in attendance for the signing of a new treaty covering trade in magical goods. Hermione helped herself to a book and a cup of tea and settled in to wait.

When Kingsley strode into the room an hour later and Hermione set her book aside, though she was only a few pages in. She hadn’t been able to concentrate at all on anything besides her thoughts of Kingsley, Marcus, and even Stephen. If she hadn’t know how important the minister’s negotiations were, she might have left to track down Marcus. She didn’t need to ask to know that things had gone well: Kingsley looked triumphant.

“Congratulations, sir!” She said, jumping up to hug the big man. Kingsley returned her hug fiercely.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he said. He leaned down and kissed Hermione lightly on the cheek and, to her shame, she moaned. Kingsley drew back for a moment, looking down at her with a mixture of surprise, amusement, and arousal. Hermione bit her upper lip and made a decision fast. She seized Kingsley’s hands, pulled them down to her arse, causing him to bend almost double, and stood on tip-toe to kiss him on the mouth.

“I think you need a real congratulations, sir,” she said, huskily, drunk on the taste of him.

Kingsley growled deep in his throat and his hands tightened on the soft flesh of her arse.

“You sure you know what you’re getting into here, lass?” He asked. Hermione could hear the hunger in his voice even through the tone of genuine concern.

“Make me your slut,” said Hermione, taking hold of his cock through his voluminous robes.

Kingsley’s growl deepened and he drew his wand, locking the door firmly. The room was already thoroughly silenced and immune to apparation. He shrugged out of his robes and pulled Hermione back into an embrace, lifting her off the ground one-handed and kissing her more firmly than before. She could feel the wetness of her pussy start to drip down her thighs when he set her down, and she started to unbutton her blouse frantically before turning her attention to Kingsley’s shirt. While she worked on their clothes — her skirt and Kingsley’s belt soon followed shirt and blouse — Kingsley continued to let his hands roam over her body, migrating from her arse up to her breasts. As soon as his big hands engulfed her tits she thought she might melt.

Kingsley finally withdrew his tongue from her mouth.

“Let’s see what else that clever little mouth is good at,” he said.

“Thought you’d never ask,” said Hermione, eagerly dropping to her knees and grabbing for the Minister’s fly. Her fingers trembled. Now that she was here — on her knees, nearly naked, and inches away from a black cock — she almost lost her nerve, but the memories of her and Ron’s arousal the night before, and the intoxicating scent of Kingsley’s musk, spurred her on. Her fingers stilled as she took hold of the zipper and pulled it down. With one final motion, she tugged down the Minister’s trousers and pants together, and a massive cock sprang up.

She couldn’t tell if it was actually bigger than Marcus’s, not having been up close to it, but it was certainly bigger than the dildo she had used the night before. Tentatively, she reached out the caress its smooth, ebony length, feeling its power. A current ran through her body and she leaned in, inhaling deeply, before kissing the side of the shaft. Kingsley groaned. Taking this as a sign, Hermione began to kiss all over his cock, cupping his plum-sized balls in her hands. His cock, already hardening, and massive, grew further. By the time she planted a final kiss on the head, which was nearly the size of her fist, it was hard as a rock and standing proud at nearly a foot long. She licked her lips and opened her mouth as wide as she could.

Kingsley placed a gentle but firmly encouraging hand on the back of her head and urged her on. Her eyes were watering by the time four inches had made it into her mouth, but she was nothing if not determined, and she had managed with the dildo last night, after all. She placed her hands on Kingsley’s thighs and pulled. He got the message and increased the pressure on her head. Her throat gradually opened around him, and, inch by inch, more of his cock pushed its way into her mouth.

With eight inches of cock lodged in her throat, saliva streaming out around it, and her eyes watering, Hermione found that she could go no further and pulled back. Kingsley sank into an armchair, vanishing his trousers the rest of the way. Hermione took a moment to admire his body, heavily muscled and tattooed, before sliding back towards him.

“Don’t worry,” said Kingsley, sliding his cock back into her mouth, “I’m sure you’ll get there. Now lets see what you can do.”

Encouraged, Hermione started to bob her head up and down, slowly at first, but then faster and faster. It took both hands, but she began to rub around his girth as she sucked. Kingsley moaned again.

“Merlin, you’re good at that,” he gasped. “Get ready you little cock-tease. I’m going to cum.”

With a grunt, his body went taught. Hermione could feel the powerful rush of semen under her hands as seed began to pump through his cock. The first blast hit her tongue, filling her mouth with rich, salty nectar, and she thought she had never tasted anything so delicious, and she came to, letting out a high, keening, moan through her mouthful of cock and cum. She swallowed as fast as she could, not wanting to waste a drop, but copious quantities still spilled out onto her breasts and into Kingsley’s lap. As he leaned back, she eagerly lapped up the glistening white liquid from around the base of his cock as it started to deflate slightly.

“That was amazing,” she said, scooping semen off her breasts as well.

“You certainly show great potential,” said Kingsley.

They both sat panting for a moment before he rose and spoke again. Hermione remained on her knees, feeling a little cock-drunk.

“I’d love to stay and break in that little pussy, too,” he said, pouring a cup of tea for himself, “but I have another meeting I need to attend. You’ve made me a little late, as a matter of fact. I’ll have to think of a suitable punishment for next week.”

The last was said in a semi-joking manner, and Hermione felt another small tremor go through her body.

“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling a bit.

“You might want to practice stretching that tight little cunt,” said Kingsley, crouching down next to her. He kissed her again and slid a hand into her knickers, shoving one finger that was noticeably bigger than Ron’s cock into her dripping pussy. She let out another hoarse scream of pleasure as her body spasmed in another orgasm. “If it’s this tight on my finger,” said Kingsley, popping the finger into his mouth and sucking her juices off it, “my cock will have you walking crooked for a week.”

A flick of his wand had him fully-attired again and he opened to door, pausing in it briefly.

“Have a good weekend, Miss Granger.”

He shut the door and Hermione sat for a minute longer, licking up the last vestiges of Kingsley’s cum, and reliving the past fifteen minutes in her head. She couldn’t believe that she’d come at all, let alone so hard, without once touching her pussy. It was incredible.

Finally, she stood, shakily, and collected her clothes. She used the Minister’s washroom to freshen her appearance a little, and then summoned the transport window to avoid needing to walk past Stephen. She arrived a dozen blocks from her building, feeling a desire to walk a little. She strolled down the street before cutting through a small park. She felt marvelously fulfilled, and couldn’t wait to see what else the evening might offer.

She didn’t have to wait long.

As she left the park to cross the street to her building, she saw Marcus stepping out of a taxi. She quickly pulled what looked like a mobile phone (but was in fact a disguised magical device) out of her purse and tapped a message to Ron: I’ll have a surprise for you when you get home.

Message sent, she hurried across the street.
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The Happy Hotwives of Hogsmeade