Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

All's Fair	By : sarcastrow Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 4262 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: 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.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
All’s Fair

The Game

“Just like that, Finnigan. Don’t stop. Oh… Yes…Yessss. OH FUCK YESSSS!!!”

Pansy could peel paint. Her screams of pleasure were sometimes hard on Seamus’ ears. She was riding him hard at a full gallop, and he was giving her just as good. Every time she rocked forward he could just see the ruby colored head of his cock almost emerge before plunging yet again into the dark depths of her hot, wet pussy. She had come twice and was on her way to a third very loud orgasm. From the rhythmic banging on the wall he could tell Dean and Luna were at it in the next room. The boys had shared a flat since a few months after the end of the war, and Luna was a fairly constant visitor. She and Dean had fallen in love after finding each other in the basement of Malfoy Manor. It worked well; neither she nor Dean was looking to get married, but they both had a potent sex drive, and she didn’t mind that Dean and Seamus tended to share… everything. In fact, she was rather pleased at that.

Seamus would never have guessed that he would end up as a fuck buddy, confidant and occasional arm candy for Pansy Parkinson. So many from the Magical community who had been on the wrong side in the war had become outcasts that it amazed Seamus sometimes how well Pansy had done. She was the consummate politician, and no one had known, including Pansy, until circumstances made it necessary. She had manipulated her way into the upper echelons of the reconstruction, reparation and rehabilitation movement. Now she was one of the most important fundraisers for several charities, most notably the Muggleborn Restoration Service. She organized charity events like formal balls, speeches given by some of the more famous participants in the war, and she was even successful at getting some of the wizarding businesses to donate a portion of their profits to the efforts. Then there was her head for efficiency; raising money was one thing, spending it wisely was another. She had discovered that she was very good at finding which way to direct the funds so they would do the most good for the most people.

And the fact that she fucked him like a wild animal was definitely a plus.

She rode him with a passion. She had let her hair grow out of the short bob that she had worn throughout school and her raven tresses fell like a curtain around him. He could smell the perfume she wore in her hair, the wine on her breath and the scent that was just her. Seamus ran his hands up her sides, eliciting a small giggle, and cupped her breasts. He thumbed her nipples and watched as she came again. He loved that; the gripping of his cock by her strong muscles, the sudden flood of her juices around him and the sound of her wet pussy as he counterthrusted to drive her to even higher pleasures. She raked her fingernails down his torso, leaving the tell tale red marks behind. She never broke the skin, but those marks would bring a smile to Seamus’ face for the next few days as he shaved.

“Fuck, Finnigan, how long are you going to keep this up,” she said a little breathlessly as she ground herself against him.

“As long as me little Slytherin princess wants me to, I’d say. I’ll drive for a while then, shall I?” he said, and pulled her down to him. Seamus flipped them over and laid her on her side, straddled her left leg, put her right over his shoulder and plunged into her again.

“AAIIIEEEAHH,” she screamed, and he heard a giggle from the next room. “Oh fuck, Seamus. Ahh, ahh, yessss…” and she reached around behind her arse to twiddle his balls. “Time for you to come,” she growled.

He looked down at their joining; the bright pink lips of her pussy were just visible under the dark black curls and her clit was standing out like a little baldheaded man. He licked his thumb and began rubbing it in small circles in time with his thrusts. He was close. “Both together then, me lass,” he said, and moved her hand aside to slide a finger up her arse.

“OH GREAT FUCKING MERLIN,” she shouted, and came very hard. “Come right now!!!” she commanded as she spanked his arse hard.

“Fuck, and I will,” he said, and he felt himself fall over the edge. Coming with Pansy had a special charm. Her pussy clutched and rippled on his member with such force that he occasionally became light-headed as a result. He fell over and flopped on the bed beside her

A shout came through the wall. “Nice job, Finnigan!!!”

“Fuck you, Thomas.” Pansy shouted back, a wicked grin on her face.

“Done that,” was the response.

Seamus laughed. “He’s got you there,” and he licked her nipple just for fun.

“Only because you two ambushed me that night,” she said in mock indignation, slapping him on the shoulder.

Seamus smiled broadly and ran his hand up her thigh. He found her still quivering pussy and slid a finger in, eliciting a gasp. God, she was so wet and ready all the time. “What about the other four times?” He asked as he began to slowly finger fuck her.

“I, uh… Ummm, god, yes,” she said, relaxing into the bed and enjoying what he was doing. “A girl’s got to make sure she likes it now. Oh yes, just like that.”

“And did you, then?” he asked with a knowing smile.

Her answer was to push him down on his back, crawl down his body, and straddle his head with her legs. “Shut up and lick me,” she commanded, and sat on his face.

Alright then, how’s a boy to refuse, he thought, and slid his tongue up through her folds to swirl around her clit. He was delicate and slow at first, then he felt her mouth sweep over his cock and he moaned into her.

There was a smack as she withdrew. “Like that, do you?” she asked.

He sped up the swirl with his tongue in answer; she moaned and took him all the way to the base of his cock in one swift movement. He wasn’t fully hard again but it still felt like he would come just from that. She continued bobbing up and down on his cock, her tongue swirling around the head on the upstroke while he slid two fingers into her and began to diddle her again.

“DEEEEAANN!!!” Luna’s soft voice sounded from the other room as she came.

Seamus felt cold air on his cock for a moment. “NICE JOB, THOMAS,” she shouted, and took him again.

“Thank you!” he heard through the wall.

Seamus felt and heard her say, “Arsehole,” around his cock.

***************

Pansy was gone as always when he woke up. He didn’t love Pansy; that was for another girl named Lavender, and that one was recuperating from a wound that went far deeper than the scars on her skin and her monthly transformations. He was, however, severely in lust with Pansy. As he shaved he contemplated the red trails she had left with her fingernails on his chest and sides, and he smiled. The smile faded slightly as he came to the scars. Being an Auror had its drawbacks. After the war they had gone to Neville, the hero, the commander, and he had, in his kind, gentle, polite but incredibly firm way, declined. They had gone to Harry who had told them somewhat less politely that he was retired; Ginny had been less polite than that. She’d slammed the door in their faces and suggested they look up Chipoltra Nasus.

With Hermione nodding in agreement over his shoulder, Ron had told them to fuck off.

But Seamus, well, Seamus they had rescued. After the war, angry was a somewhat pale word for Seamus Finnigan. He’d burned in the full fire of his Irish temper. Colin Creevey had been the little brother he’d never had and Seamus took his death harder than anyone, but then again they weren’t there when it happened. Seamus was. The Death Eater had laughed. Colin had been disarmed, and Seamus heard his howls from the Cruciatus across the pitched battle on the lawn; as he ran up, the bastard cast the Avada Kedavra and Seamus lost his mind for a while. They told him he had reduced the man to a bloody pulp in a surprisingly slow amount of time. He’d managed to kill seven other Death Eaters almost casually as the man who had killed Colin cried, begged, blubbered and eventually died from the bombardment of not-quite lethal curses Seamus had sent his way every few moments.

Then he had developed a vigilante streak and they had sent Bill Weasley to find him and bring him in. Seamus was a very fast and capable young wizard. He was ruthless and resourceful - the Death Eaters he had battled at Hogwarts were a testament to that. But he was not Bill Weasley. Bill had approached Seamus and honorably asked him to surrender his wand and accompany him back to the Ministry. Seamus had, not very politely and with much cursing, declined. Bill said it really wasn’t a choice, and Seamus had drawn his wand. Bill’s was in his hand faster than Seamus could follow. The short but intense fight lasted for about 10 seconds before Seamus was sliding across the floor on his back. Bill asked him one more time, and Seamus had flinched toward his wand to attack again. He woke up in Saint Mungo’s.

Kingsley was there when he regained consciousness. The offer was fairly straightforward: Come to work for the Auror Department or go to prison. Seamus wisely chose M.L.E. They were familiar with young men with a vengeance streak in the training camps, and he learned to direct his anger with a little more skill and reserve. He had finished the academy at the top of his class and been sent into special investigations. A life of long months of undercover work didn’t lend itself to serious relationships, and what he had with Pansy turned out to be perfect for both of them. He had a good friend with spectacular benefits, and she got to be on the arm of a devastatingly handsome, decorated war hero when they attended her fundraising events. To his surprise, Seamus had found he rather liked the game.

Pansy could chat up almost anybody and have them donating to her charity within a few minutes. She had even made amends with Hermione and secured an invitation to the wedding, a feat that had left Seamus stunned. He was more impressed by that than any of her other accomplishments. He looked back in the mirror and smiled. Tonight was the second annual men versus women all-star Quidditch match. Pansy had had the idea just after the war, and she had gone to Gwenog Jones and Oliver Wood to help her get it off the ground, so to speak. It had taken two full years to finally happen, but when it did it was almost as big as the world cup had been. Up until the last year Pansy herself had actually played one of the chaser positions for the girls’ side. This year they had a full complement of seasoned professionals, including Ginny Potter, who had insisted that her fellow Harpies chaser, Katie Bell, be at her side.

Seamus was looking forward to the after party. He hadn’t seen Katie in quite a while, and then just the last week he had been invited by Ron and Harry to one of Ginny’s matches. He had been entranced by Katie as she flew. She was not a classic beauty, but she had a body to die for, and she handled a broom with a skill that eluded everyone else on the pitch. Where most women players plaited their hair, Katie let her locks fly loose in the wind. Seamus had been struck by how hot it was to watch this hard-bodied witch, her hair whipping around her, ply the field with such skill.

There was a knock at the bathroom door. “Seamus, may I have my hair brush?” Luna’s dreamy voice said from beyond the door.

He fumbled through the clutter atop the converted chest of drawers that held the sink until he found the old brush. Luna’s mother had given it to her on her eighth birthday; it had been her grandmum’s. He smiled and opened the door to find Luna absolutely naked on the other side. Fortunately for Seamus this wasn’t the first time; she had a tendency to forget her clothes around the flat. Also, Dean was constantly painting her and he preferred her nude when she posed. Hell, he just preferred her nude.

“Your brush, Miss Godiva,” he said, and gallantly handed it to her.

Luna smiled at the reference. “Thank you kind sir,” she said with a bow, turned and walked away with a purposeful rock to her hips.

“Dean, you lucky fuck,” Seamus said under his breath as he watched her retreating arse.

Of course Seamus knew precisely how lucky Dean was. The two boys had grown closer at Hogwarts than most brothers, and they shared so many experiences that it never occurred to them not to share their girlfriends. It wasn’t constantly, but some nights a few glasses of wine would lead to a few more, and then there would be naked bodies in the sitting room. Images floated unbidden into his mind, Luna riding Seamus’ cock while she sucked Dean, Luna on her knees, Dean slamming his long, hard, black cock into her while she jerked and sucked Seamus, Dean sliding into her arse as she lay on top of Seamus with his cock deep in her pussy, and lastly Pansy and Luna showing the boys just what witches learned to do late at night with their own wands. That had been almost too much to bear.

Wine had lead to brandy, and then a few shots of whiskey. After that, the girls had started talking about how in their fifth year the seventh year girls would show them the secrets of female wand lore. Luna, the consummate Ravenclaw, had been fascinated by the difference in styles. The Ravenclaw girls cast a charm that fattened and lubricated the wand. Some would make it pulse rhythmically, some would make it vibrate and move in and out by itself. The Slytherin girls opted for reality. They would cast a particularly sneaky charm on the boys, one they couldn’t detect and never knew about. It would allow the casters wand to exactly duplicate the size, shape, and texture of the boy in question. Pansy had tried practically every boy in the school, and had found much to her surprise that among her favorites was Percy Weasley. The prim and proper assistant to the Minister had a nine inch cock as thick as four of her fingers together.

Pansy had safely stored the images in a small box. All she had to do was say the name, tap her wand on the box, and say the incantation, “Penia Duplis.” Luna had ridden Pansy’s wand with abandon as the black haired witch had let her try Percy, Blaise Zabini, the aptly named Oliver Wood, Draco Malfoy, and lastly Severus Snape. Her old head of house was graced with a thick, curved member that, in the right position, tapped her G spot with every stroke. Luna writhed and squealed as Pansy drove her wand, tipped with Snape’s cock, in and out of her quivering pussy. She came over and over until with one earth-shattering scream, she passed out. The boys had watched in utter fascination as, after she had regained consciousness, Luna had modified her own wand. It thickened and took on the appearance of a stack of rings about an inch and a half across. “Stimlia Vagi,” Luna had said, and the rings began to roll up and down her wand while the whole thing vibrated in her hand. Pansy had come just as hard as Luna.

When Pansy had released Luna from a heated kiss after she had come, Seamus pounced. Watching the girls drive each other to such heights had left the boys with rock hard, aching cocks. Seamus drove into Pansy with one thrust, and began fucking her with a passion he hadn’t known he had. Her pussy was bright pink from her previous orgasms, and he watched her come again. Her juices soaked him with spray and his control had left him. “Oh fuck, Pansy, oh FUUCCCKKK!!!!” he had shouted and came harder than he thought possible. Dean had Luna bent over the couch and was slamming into her from behind. As Seamus came she looked at him and did something he was all too familiar with: She crossed her legs and squeezed. Dean came apart. He shouted and panted in an impossibly high voice, then collapsed on top of her.

Seamus shook himself from his reveries and looked down at his now throbbing cock. “Can’t get enough, can you, me lad,” he said to his best little mate. “Just have to see if Luna is up for a little blowy this morning.” Laughing, he let his towel fall to the floor and stepped from the bathroom. “Luna, could you help me with a little problem,” he called, and laughed some more.

************

“So, bringing Seamus to the match?” Padma Patil asked, and took up her tea.

Pansy grinned, images from the previous evening shoving their way into her mind. “Yes, for a bit. Got to have an arm for the opening ceremony, but I’ll be turning him loose after the match is over. Thomas Greymartin is coming, and I’ve been waiting to get him alone.”

“Would that be a Greymartin Cauldrons, Greymartin?” Padma asked with a sly grin. Padma understood the machinations of Pansy’s plans, but would never have the guts and grace under pressure to pull them off. It made their partnership perfect. Pansy was the public face of the organization, Padma did the intellectual and magical heavy lifting, and they both directed the funds.

“It would, that” Pansy smiled into her tea. “I got a good practice session in last night, so young master Thomas is in for a night he’ll remember as he’s lying on his death bed.”

“And then he donates to the fund, eh,” Padma laughed. “They have a word for that, you know”

“Yeah, business,” Pansy laughed.

“And Seamus?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll find something to distract him. After all, decorated war hero, international Auror squad, man who solved the London rail attack,” Pansy sipped her tea, “he’ll do fine.”

“He doesn’t mind you toddling off with another man for the night?”

“I keep telling you, Paddy, we’re not in love. He’s gone a lot, and I’ve got… other priorities. It works for us, and if I need to ‘close a deal’,” she waggled her eyebrows at Padma, “he doesn’t mind.”

Padma looked wistful. “Anthony would freak out,” she said with a smirk.

“Oh, Paddy,” Pansy said. “You know this kind of thing is just not you. Anthony is madly in love, and so are you, so just appreciate that. Lots of folks would trade places with you.” Besides, Anthony is in my little box, too. I know what you go home to partner, and it’s very, very nice. Trust me, she thought.

“Well make it a nice, profitable evening, then. I expect a significant contribution to the fund if you’re going to curl his toes tonight.”

Pansy smiled wide. “You know me, partner. I’ll have the galleons before he gets lipstick on his cock.”

Padma squirmed in her chair. She was getting incredibly turned on, and she was seriously considering dropping by Goldstein’s fine magical jewelry and fucking her fiancé silly in the back room. Pansy could always tell. “Alright, alright, why don’t you go visit Anthony at the shop, I’ll get back to the office and make the last of the Floo calls.” She rose from her chair and pulled Padma to her feet. “Go on. Get some lipstick on his pubes and fuck him ragged.”

Padma smiled, turned, and practically dashed down the street. “You’re welcome, Anthony,” Pansy muttered to herself, and then laughed.

*****************

The chime sounded from the other side of the door, and an old, grey, bent elf pulled the door open. “Master Finnigan, welcome back to Parkinson Place. May I take your cloak?”

Seamus smiled at the elf as he stepped through the door. “That’s alright, Eli, I’ll just be picking up Pansy and we’ll be on our way.” A look of sudden remembering crossed his face. “Oh, and did you get that bottle o’ Jameson’s black label I sent you?”

“Oh yes, Master Finnigan. Mistress Pansy gave it to me straight away when she got home from Dublin.” The old elf smiled. “It certainly helps the old bones to rest at night. Thank you so much, Master Finnigan.”

“Aye, and you’re welcome so much, Eli. She ready then?”

“Soon, Master Finnigan, soon. Will we be seeing you tonight?” the old elf asked.

“Sadly, no,” Seamus said with a smile, “Pansy has a business deal she needs to be closing tonight.”

“You are a remarkable wizard, Master Finnigan,” Eli said, “I’ve seen more than a few on the step begging Mistress Pansy to return their affections, but you, you just don’t seem to mind her… pragmatic approach to men.”

Seamus laughed. “Pragmatic, I like that. Yes, well we fit Eli, I’m not interested in marriage either.” Until Lavender is better, anyway. “I’m just glad she has you to look after her when I’m away.”

Pansy’s voice floated down the stairwell, “I’ll be down in just a minute, Seamus.”

“’S’not a problem, love. I’ll just have Eli make me a drink,” he shouted back up the stairs.

“Would Master Finnigan care for a brandy, then?” Eli asked.

“That’d be great, Eli.”

The elf led Seamus to the sitting room just off the entry hall and poured a three-fingered snifter of brandy for him. Seamus liked this room more than any other in the old mansion, except perhaps Pansy’s bedroom, although that one was usually dark when he was in it, and he was usually only looking at her. This room told the tale of an ancient and powerful Wizarding family, one that had risen to prominence through long years of careful political manipulation. There had been more than one Parkinson Minister for Magic, a member of the family had been on the Wizengamot council for a thousand years, and they had married into the most influential families in Wizarding Europe. Yes, the Parkinsons had done well. Seamus sipped his brandy and contemplated the paintings.

“Welcome back, Mr. Finnigan,” an old man said from his portrait.

“Evening, Alfonse,” Seamus said to the painting, and sipped his drink.

Alfonse Parkinson was Pansy’s great-great grand uncle. His father had been Mugwump and his mother the daughter of the Italian Minister, another carefully calculated merger on the part of the Parkinson Family. “It’s the Quidditch match tonight, is it?” he asked.

“Yeah, Alfonse, should be a cracking time. Pansy’s not playing this year, though. It’s all pros on both sides.”

“You sound disappointed,” Pansy said from the doorway. Seamus turned and involuntarily drew in a sharp breath. She was dressed in an outfit that resembled a Quidditch uniform, but if she had attempted to play in it would show far more of her body than a proper witch should. The bodice portion barely contained her ample breasts, and the trousers weren’t. It was a dress that imitated trousers, and was slit nearly to her hips. Her hair was down, and she had given it a slight wave. She dripped allure and the promise of wild, carnal pleasure.

“You’ll be getting your donation tonight, that’s for certain,” Seamus told her as her gathered her in his arms. “You? In this outfit? He’s done for,” and he kissed her gently.

“And you’re looking as dashing as ever too, my handsome Auror. I wonder which lucky witch is taking you home tonight?” she said as she drew her hand down the side of his face.

Seamus laughed, downed the rest of his brandy in one go, swept her up in an embrace, and said, “Let’s go find out, shall we?” With a loud snap they Disapparated from the room.

They reappeared next to an enormous tent in a field outside of Yorkshire. Out among the dales a Quidditch pitch had been conjured into reality by a host of wizards and witches. The old squib farmer who owned the land was gracious and helpful. He had let Pansy and her small army of helpers set up a camp for the foreign players and spectators at one end of his fields, while he had arranged water taps for the campers and a rather large tent for his wizard brother to operate a pub out of at the opposite end. In the center, tucked into one of the dales was the pitch. While not as grand as world cup pitches it was still a large and impressive structure. It bore a striking resemblance to a sailing ship from the 18^th century. A huge arrangement of timbers, rigging, and canvas rose from the pit into which the pitch had been set, and it appeared ready to set sail across the verdant landscape. Young elves crawled in the rigging of the sail like canopies that would protect the crowd if it happened to rain. Loud music was coming from the inside of the tent and Pansy steered Seamus away from it and toward the VIP entrance to the pitch.

“No time for that, Finnigan, we’ve got a few hands to shake and people to impress before I turn you loose on the unsuspecting witches of the world,” Pansy said with a laugh.

“Ah, you’re a slave driver, you are,” Seamus responded with a smirk.

Pansy looked at him in mock surprise. “I haven’t broken out my whips… yet,” and she smiled lustily and smacked his arse.

Seamus slid his arm around her waist. “Well come on then, let get this done ‘afore you do,” he said.

They strode between the tents and after a few minutes came to an entrance to the pitch structure. A sign over the double doors said, “Players and Guests.” Seamus took out his wand and tapped on one of doors. “Seamus Finnigan and Pansy Parkinson,” he said, and the doors opened. They stepped through into a large, tented area. Dozens of round tables were at their end of the tent and a dance floor and bandstand were at the opposite end. Various banners from the Quidditch teams that had supplied the players hung in the air above the dance floor and tables. Dancers twirled and hugged each other close as they swung around the floor. Seamus was impressed, it was still a bit early and a fairly large crowd had already arrived. The same elf band that had played the first annual Dumbledore’s Army reunion was on the stand playing a slow number Seamus didn’t recognize at first.

“If I stay here with you girl

things just wouldn’t be the same.

So I must be travelling on now,”

Seamus laughed loudly, “You are feckin kidding me. Free Bird?”

Pansy turned to him, bemused. “It’s an old, American Muggle song,” Seamus told her, “very popular. Me dad used to bring out his guitar from time to time when I was a wee lad, and in amongst the Van Morrison he’d play some other tunes. This was one.” He laughed again. “It’s become a bit o’ a joke, really. You’re supposed to hold a cigarette lighter over your head and wave it back and forth slowly. Like this.” He lit the end of his wand, held it up over his head, and slowly moved it back and forth to the rhythm of the song.

“Fascinating,” Pansy said dryly.

Seamus smiled and shook his head. “Guess it’s all about context. Come on, then,” he said, and he led her toward the stage where he had just seen Padma and Anthony.

As they made their way through the tables and to the bandstand Pansy pulled a champagne flute from a passing waiter’s tray and stopped to greet a few players and some of the higher profile donors. Seamus was very proud of his friend; his dad would have said she worked the room like a royal. She moved gracefully from table to table and group to group, thanking each person by name for coming and donating their time and money to her charity.

********************************************************
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

All's Fair