The Happiest Day of His Life

BY : Wimp36
Category: Harry Potter > General > General
Dragon prints: 5891
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.

As he watched his beautiful bride walk down the aisle, Harry Potter knew that he was a lucky man. Ginny was absolutely stunning in her white silk and lace dress. The bodice of the dress was cut deep to reveal an expanse of pale skin almost down to her navel, with the inner curves of her small breasts on display. A slit in the side of the gown showed a long, pale leg, clad in white lace and high heels of white velvet. Harry’s breath caught in his throat.


“You got this, Harry!” Whispered Neville from behind him. He turned his head a fraction to see Ron, Neville, and Dean grinning encouragingly. On the other side of the altar, Hermione, Luna, and Demelza Robbins stood, all attired in sky blue gowns. He turned his attention back to his bride-to-be, his eyes sliding briefly over the assembled crowd of expectant witches, wizards, and family. He saw Dudley slip into a seat at the back — he had thought his cousin might not make it after the chaos that had been his stag party the night before — and smiled. Dudley flashed him a quick thumbs up.


Ginny reached the dais, grinning that mischievous smile he loved so much. As instructed, he took her hands in his and repeated the words the officiant told him to, staring deeply into Ginny’s eyes, knowing that his own were glittering with tears of love. Ginny gave a nervous little swallow and then said her part, beaming the entire time.


“You may now kiss the bride!”


Harry leaned in and kissed Ginny, expecting a short, chaste peck on the lips. Instead he was treated to a full French kiss, her tongue eagerly exploring his mouth, as the crowd hooted and cheered. They finally drew back. Harry’ could feel his lips and tongue tingling in the memory of that kiss already. His tongue registered a faint, musky flavor mingled with that of her fruity lip gloss.


He took Ginny’s hand and they left the hall together, with her leaning on him possessively. Once they were out of the hall, he took her arm and turned on the spot, appareling them both to the Three Broomsticks, where they reception would take place. A small private room had been set aside for them to get ready for the party, stocked with snacks, champagne, and butter beer.


Ginny flopped onto the couch.


“Will you give me a foot massage, husband?” She asked, giggling. “My feet are killing me!”


Harry sat and unclasped Ginny’s proffered shoe. He began to rub her feet and she moaned in pleasure.


“How much do you remember about last night?” She asked suddenly.


Harry blushed.


Last night had been his stag-do. He, Ron, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Colin, George, and Dudley had gone out into Muggle London. He had half expected Dudley not to come. Their relationship had improved since the war had ended, but they still weren’t close. Yet he’d come, and had been the life of the party.


Booze had flowed like water, and by midnight it had been down to Harry, Ron, Dean, George, and Dudley, having lost Neville, Seamus, and Colin at their third bar of the night. They had ended up, at Dudley’s suggestion at a strip club, where everyone bought dances for Harry. He’d ejaculated in his pants during the second dance — his sexual experience was limited to a few handjobs from Cho and over-the-pants play from Ginny (though he’d eaten her out a few times, too) — and had to spend the remainder of the night with wet, sticky briefs. He vaguely remembered a very drunk George escorting an equally drunk Ron back to the Burrow and Dean going off with one of the strippers. Finally, Dudley had helped him back to the hotel he and Ginny were staying at.


“Not much,” he replied, honestly. The broad strokes were there, but not the details.


“Well,” she said, “after you got back, I heard you flopping around, and I came in to make sure you were all right.” At Molly Weasley’s insistence, they had booked separate, but adjoining, rooms. “You were on you bed with your trousers and pants half off, and reeking like a brewery.” She giggled. It must have looked hilarious. “Anyway, there you were, looking like a dead fish. I heard the shower running, and figured you had started it but passed out before you could get it. I went to turn it off, and guess what I saw?”


Harry stopped rubbing her foot and stared at her blankly: he had no idea. Had he brought a stripper back to the hotel? Had he vomited all over the room? Ginny smirked.


“Your cousin. He was just standing there with the biggest cock I’ve ever seen! Luna took us to a male strip club for my hen night, and I saw some cocks there — almost all of them put yours to shame” she ground her other foot into his suddenly rock-hard crotch, “But Dudley’s…” she shuddered.


Harry blinked. He’d never heard this kind of language from Ginny before. He knew for a fact that she’d never done anything beyond kissing with her previous partners — Dean had been particularly vocal in complaining that she was a tease — and the only time she mentioned penises was a punchline to a joke or an insult. To suddenly hear her talk about cocks with that sort of hunger in her voice was shocking. He’d never considered his own cock to be too small. Sure it wasn’t the size of Dean’s massive hog, but it was longer than Seamus’s or Neville’s, and thicker than Ron’s (living in a dormitory of pubescent teenage boys meant that you saw your fair share of cocks, one way or another).


“Anyway, I was horny, you and your little dick were passed out, and Dudley was there, so…” she leaned in and kissed him. “I sucked his dick. Right there in the bathroom. He came all over my face. And then he fucked me. He took your little wife’s virgin pussy with his massive cock while you drooled into a pillow three feet away.”


Harry gaped at her. He was shocked. Horrified. Betrayed. Furious.




He ached for release, and longed for more details. He reached for his cock, but Ginny was too quick. She drew her wand out from the purse on the table and twitched it. Harry found himself handcuffed and with a ball gag in his mouth.


“I thought you’d like it. He said you would at least.” She smirked again, drawing up the skirt of her dress to reveal more of her long white-stockinged legs and a hint of her panty-clad pussy. “I came so many times while he fucked me, I lost count! I know you’ve only used you fingers and your tongue, but there’s no way you can match what he did, but you’ll get a chance to try tonight. He came in my pussy, too! All that strong, fertile cum in there…mmm.” She started to massage herself over her panties. “He fucked me again using you as a mattress. He sat on your bed and rubbed his feet on your face while I rode his cock like a whore! I think you were half awake, because you were rubbing your dick while I screamed. He came in my pussy again and then I rubbed it on your face.”


Harry was flabbergasted. He vaguely remembered a dream in which Ginny had been being fucked, but he thought he had been doing the fucking. That he’d woken up with cum all over himself had not been a surprise, but to know that some of it might not have been his? He shuddered, wishing he could stroke himself.


“After that, I took him back to my room. He fucked me once more before we went to sleep. We fucked again this morning, and then I blew him before he left. Do you know why he was late to the ceremony?”


She leaned close to him.


“I sucked him off in the changing room. Right before I walked down the aisle. Picture it. Your sexy little ginger wife: choking on a big dick while you waited for her at the altar. I kept his cum in my mouth until I had to say the vows, you know. I swallowed his cum and then kissed you not thirty seconds later.”


Harry’s mind flashed back to her swallowing, and to the musky taste that had come with her kiss. He groaned again and Ginny sat bolt upright.


“None of that,” she snapped, grabbing her purse off the table. “We have a reception to go to. I want to dance until my feet feel like they’re going to fall off. I want to drink enough champagne to kill a horse. And then I want you to fuck me. I want you to prove you’re a real man. I want you to make me scream for you. I want you to reclaim me if you can. Do you think you can do that?”


Harry nodded and she yanked open the front of his trousers, fishing his rock hard cock from his pants. He had never been this hard in his entire life, and his cock stood up well beyond its usual five inches. It must have been pushing seven and was an angry purple color.


“I can’t have you blowing your load the second we get in bed, so I’m going to take the edge off,” said Ginny, spitting into her hand and taking hold of him. “This is more like it by the way,” she added, teasing his helmet with her thumb. He moaned piteously as her hand sped up. “If you can get this big and hard later and last a while, we might be in business.” Harry knew that his orgasm was imminent and he started bucking his hips into Ginny’s hand. Suddenly, she pulled her hand away and Harry’s cock erupted painfully, spraying the biggest load of his life straight into the air. His body spasmed and his arms wrenched, snapping the chain of the handcuffs. Cum splattered on his suit jacket, his cheek, Ginny’s breasts, and even her face. She blinked and then grinned, scooping a glob of cum from his cheek and popping it into her mouth.


“That was impressive. Let’s try for a repeat performance later!”

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