What Pigs Do | By : crownedhopeless Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 1202 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
He had
masturbated before hand. It was a necessity; Pollux had found pondering this
thought for a extensive amount of time, coming to the sole conclusion of what
needed to be done. He had a formula, a perfect logical order of how it would’ve
been handled. The man had sat in their gray bathroom, the long black curtains
covering the windows behind his hunched over back as he set his plan into
motion. His long finger were wrapped around the throbbing member, the large
vein swelling as he gripped his penis tightly in his hand, sliding it up and
down his long shaft. Harsh breaths escaped from his nostrils, his brow furrowed
with rows of wrinkles as he stood hunched over, as if protecting his activity
from the toilet and bathtub. One, two, three… the man kept his motion strong,
picking up the pace when he felt his groin swell and the head of his penis
redden before gradually fading into a bruised purple around the hole. His black
eyelashes fluttered, eyes rolling in his head like loose marbles. “Ugh… fuck,”
he grunted hoarsely. Pollux was close, and that was all he needed. With his
masturbating hand, Pollux gently tucked his thick staff of flesh back into his
trousers, not bothering to zip the closing.
He stepped
outside into the main hallway and stood leaning against the craved chestnut
railing, his hand resting atop the brass snake head that signaled the end of
the stairs. He used it to keep his balance for his testicles already began to
throb with pain, a shredding through his groin and a heart beat thudding like a
war drum in his ear. Pollux could barely hear himself speak when he called out
for her, that useless wench. That dirty cow. Pollux was not amused that she was
laying upstairs in their “marriage bed”, awaiting him like a puppy searching
for its master’s leg to fuck. He could picture her, those big brown eyes
staring at the door, trying to look seductive on the bed though the only thing
she ever had succeed in was making him ashamed. The way she attempted to hike
up her nightgown and reveal her cellulite thighs, flaunting it like galleons in
front of him.
Pollux
called for his bitch, and the dog came running. “Yes, Pollux?’ Her white
nightgown ended at her knees, the woman’s hands shaking as she shielded her
thick arms from his disapproving gaze. The woman flushed and averted her eyes
downwards at the step her bare feet stood on. Pollux pointed, and it followed
his finger like a compass. Her pudgy cheeks burned with pink as she gazed up at
him finally, Pollux’s stone cold gray stare swallowing the stars in her eyes.
Pollux wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, his fingernails digging into
the mass of flesh as she winced visibly. He dragged her to the wall, slamming
her against it like a criminal. She didn’t squeal like he had suspected her to
when her cheek hit the solid wood wall. To be honest, a glimmer of disappointed
gleamed in the stone surrounding his pupil. He had wanted her to hurt. Pollux
needed her to pay for that ring with her tears.
To think,
he had never been a violent man before.
Pollux held
her arm above her head, her plump face still pressed against the wall and lips
squished like a freak goldfish, as he frisked her nightgown. He rode it up
quickly, his penis already snaking from his pants and tangling, still erect,
from the gaping hole in his pants. “P-Pollux, wait—“ Pollux’s father had told
him that she was a virgin, not that Pollux had shown much surprise when he
heard the news. “Pollux, please!” Pollux’s eyes never blinked and the straight
line of emotion never left his lips as his hand ripped the fabric of her cotton
panties, the crackling of torn cotton made her silent. The tears streamed down
her round cheeks, rolling over her small chin to paint the floor with her shame
and dot it with every ounce of embarrassment she felt as Pollux wrapped his
fingers around her hips, pushing her bare backside out into the dark hallway.
Pollux wasted no time for coddling his new bride, and he paid no attention to
her desperate squeals as her face pressed into the wall with every violent
thrust he gave her. The previous masturbation hadn’t allowed for any more then
six rough thrusts before he came, his pelvis giving another jolt of energy from
his orgasm. He hadn’t heard her squealing, but if he had, Pollux wouldn’t have
listened.
That’s what
pigs did: they squealed.
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