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Fiction

A Daughter’s Weekend Getaway Pt. 3

Part 3 of a multi-part story. Best to read parts 1 and 2 first, as they follow each other in succession. As always, enjoy and let me know what you think! At the very least, a part 4 will be coming soon.

Fiction

Kylie’s Song

“Sexy athlete asks boyfriend to fulfill her darkest fantasy.” This is for anyone who has ever had a dark fantasy they’ve been reluctant to admit. Very grateful for any comments.

Fiction

Their Valentine Surprises

Part 1: HIS VALENTINE’S DAY SURPRISE
She had been flying for many hours and awake even longer. The overnight British Airways flight from Tampa to London Gatwick, then a commuter flight to his city. For a matter of four days she had conducted an intense, online relationship with a married British businessman. She was, in fact, his online mistress, arising each morning at 3 a.m. to cyber him (and herself) to orgasm. A mere nudge on her IM screen would bring her running to the computer at any time of day like one of Pavlov’s dogs—and she would always perform to his satisfaction (and hers). She loved her sexual role in his life; even thinking about being his mistress made her warm and wet. Apparently the businessman’s wife didn’t object to his online sex play, but laid down a firm rule against any face-to-face contact. The mistress occasionally kidded him that taking her from behind wasn’t really face-to-face. He’d just laugh and tell her to get back to sucking his cock like a good little slut. And when he talked to her like that, it greatly enhanced her performance—and the result.
The problem she faced the previous day was that Valentine’s Day loomed on the fifth day of their relationship, and she was mystified as to how to handle it. It was too early in the relationship to do—or expect—anything significant, yet no matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn’t come up with the ‘perfect’ non-gift. The idea finally hit her on Feb. 13 and she rushed to arrange and catch her flight to England. Once she was on the plane, though she might fleetingly second-guess her decision, she was determined to go through with it. ‘In for a Euro, in for a Pound,’ was her feeling.
She knew what she was doing was pretty crazy, but she’d had more than her share of crazy sexual adventures and wasn’t too worried about that aspect. But, it has been over a year since she had been with a man, since before she left an abusive marriage. There had been a few very enjoyable flings with women, and a couple of wildly-adventurous, half-drunk orgies, but she knew she craved the taste, the feel, the touch of a hard cock. If things worked out, she was about to break a long dry spell. And try as she might to dismiss it as impossible, she knew, too, that her bold move might either end her brief but very satisfying role as an online mistress—or it might elevate it to a new level. That brought a smile to her face, and she blushed a bright red when a flight attendant passing by stopped to comment: “Looks like you’re having a happy thought.” Oh yes, a very happy thought.
A taxicab took her to his office—without a minute to spare, for it was twenty til noon GMT. She paid the cab driver double to wait for her, and entered the huge reflective doors of the office complex. It took her only a minute to find his office. A quick stop in a ladies’ room reassured her that she had somehow survived the travel looking fairly presentable, and she quickly donned the rest of her costume.
Standing now in the outer office, she looked perfectly calm and collected in her uniform-like black pantsuit, with white dickey and black bow tie in the V of the suit jacket. A short-brimmed black cap hid all her hair and was pulled down low nearly to her eyes. A pair of large sunglasses hid much of her face. She thought she might pass for a messenger, but also knew she might look a little too good. She carried a small attach?ase.
The receptionist looked up from her work.
“Yes, can I help you?”
“I have a special delivery for Bruce.”
“I’ll take it.”
“I must give it to him personally.”
“He’s very busy right now.”
“I won’t be long.”
A spark of recognition gleamed in the receptionist’s eyes and she turned to her phone console and pressed the intercom button.
“Bruce, there’s a special delivery for you,” and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I think your wife sent you a stripper.”
The intruder blushed a bit, but kept her composure and thought, Hmm, close.
The receptionist returned her gaze to the woman and said, “You can go in but he’s very busy and he has to leave in 10 minutes for lunch with his wife.” The warning and the accusatory tone were clear.
She opened the door and entered Bruce’s spacious office and took a moment to take in the details, for he was turned away from the door, typing rapidly on his computer
Without turning around, he said, “Just a moment, let me just finish this trade or my wife won’t be able to afford to pay you.”
She smiled as she realized that the deception was still intact. Finally Bruce turned toward her in his swivel chair, saying, “Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got. I have to leave here in 10 minutes.”
She removed her cap, shook her head once and her long, straight blonde cascaded down her back. Keeping her sunglasses on, she unbuttoned the suit jacket and shed it in a single motion by simply shrugging her shoulders once. One more quick move and the dickey-and-tie disappeared. She stood topless before him. She smiled when she saw him staring at her nipples with puzzlement. She knew they were her best feature, and wondered if he was beginning to catch on. His startled look told her that he more likely was wondering how his wife could know that his online mistress had long straight blonde hair and pencil-eraser nipples.
When she removed the oversized wrap-around sunglasses and finally broke into a huge smile, she saw his jaw literally drop.
“Oh…my…God! Gay!?! How did you…how could…you’re not…”
“BA,” she said, and then added, “frequent-flier miles.”
As he came out from behind his desk to greet her she stopped him with an outstretched hand. He clearly intended to embrace her, maybe even to kiss her. That would be going way too far. She had agreed to his wife’s rule about no face-to-face meeting, and was about to further to violate it. But kissing or hugging would, in her mind at least, be even worse. After all, face-to-cock wasn’t face-to-face, she thought wryly.
“The rules, Bruce. But, I’ve come to collect my Valentine’s Day present and there’s no time to talk.”
“But I didn’t get you anyth…”
“No time to talk Bruce. I’m here for my Valentine’s Day present.”
“Oh, shit, Gay, I didn’t know…”
“Not another word about it. I’m about to collect my present now.”
Gay dropped to her knees in front of him, grabbed eagerly at the impressive package that was barely hidden by his wool suit pants. She took the zipper in her teeth, looked up at him with pleading blue eyes and slowly lowered it. She then reached inside and extracted a long, lovely cock and immediately surrounded it with her hungry mouth, laving its entire surface with rapid movements of her tongue. She repeatedly brushed her hard nipples against his slacks and they brought heat and wetness to her loins.
He touched her head everywhere, with long slow strokes along her blonde hair, gently sliding the backs of his hands along her soft cheeks, fingertips tracing the lines of her neck. She felt petted and reveled in the attention.
Her fist grabbed the hardening member and pulled back the foreskin completely, revealing the full purple glory of his engorged cock. Her long tongue explored every crevice and ridge of his cock and spent time circling the base of the cockhead. A few random flicks of her tongue-tip teased the small opening from which would flow her present.
He reached down as far as he could with grasping fingers and found her nipples even more extended than he had ever imagined them to be. He took each between a thumb and forefinger and teased them—tweaking, pinching lightly, pulling a bit. She knew now that the trip would be doubly pleasurable for if he kept it up, she, too, would come. Her own wetness was already soaking her panties and she was glad for their last-minute addition, for she rarely wore them.
“Keep teasing them, Bruce, they love it,” she said as she reached into his pants to bring into view the rest of the package, paused briefly to admire the balls, then went to work with her tongue, tasting each and teasing the opposite with gentle, nimble fingers. She took each into her mouth completely and sucked gently, releasing each with a wet plopping sound.
Returning her attention to his glistening cock, she licked its length on all sides and took the swollen glans into her mouth to suck it, lick it and scrape her teeth along its sensitive surface. Reaching a free hand inside his pants she massaged his buttocks, then gently probed the entry to his anus with a circular motion.
He continued to play with her nipples as she began to take more and more of him into her mouth and throat with increasingly forceful thrusts of her head. Speeding up and feeling his cock begin to pulse she went into the frenzied face-fucking deep-throat mode that she knew would soon bring his release. As his cockhead continued to bang her throat, she began to tease his O-ring more insistently and managed to mumble muffled words from around his plunging pile-driving cock, “twist them, hard, now,” and thrust a finger into his anus.
He began to shudder and so did she as he began to maul her sensitive nipples. His forceful orgasm coated her throat and the inside of her mouth and she worked her tongue to try to capture every last drop. As his pulsations began to subside, hers continued throughout her body and she tried to maintain her concentration on gobbling down every last drop of her Valentine’s Day present. When he had finally stopped squirting into her, she used her tongue to clean his penis, milked the few last drops from it with her busy hands, then gave a final sucking kiss to the tip of his glans, savoring a final taste.
On wobbly legs she regained her feet, wetness pervading her crotch, her entire body flushed red, her face one giant smile as she said, “Thank you for my present, Bruce. It was exactly what I wanted. Now we must both go. You don’t want to be late.”
She put on the suit jacket, buttoned it across her bare breasts, placed the dickey in her pocket, donned the sunglasses, turned to leave and hesitated, tossing him the black cap like a Frisbee.
“A souvenir,” she said as she strode out of his office, still flushed from her own orgasm, a huge smile still on her face from the thought of his.
—
Before returning to her waiting taxi, she put on a sheer blouse she had kept carefully folded in her attach?ase.
At a hotel near the airport she quickly checked in for one night to await her morning flight back to Florida. As an afterthought, she asked if there were a pool and maybe someplace to buy a bathing suit. The front desk clerk sent her to the concierge to obtain a pool pass, and the friendly concierge informed her:
“You know we also have a very nice workout facility. And the gift shop also has gym togs if you need them. The people up there are very helpful and very friendly. How long will you be with us?”
“Just tonight, I’m afraid. I flew over for one short meeting today and am returning to the States tomorrow morning.”
“Short visit. Successful, I hope?”
“Oh, yes, successful.” I blushed, then broke into a wide smile as I added. “As a matter of fact: Mission Accomplished.”Part 2: HER VALENTINE’S DAY SURPRISE
Sitting in my hotel room at last, eating a room-service club sandwich and drinking iced tea, I reflected on my impulsive act of earlier in the day. By the time I flew home tomorrow morning I would wind up flying 9,000 miles round-trip to give the man I served as on-line mistress a blow job as his—and my—Valentine’s Day present.
I had violated his wife’s one, clearly-stated rule against face-to-face contact (though I smiled as I reflexively defended it as not face-to-face but face-to-cock). I had discovered that he was, indeed, a very tall (probably 6-6) and quite handsome businessman of some means who had a very suckable cock, and that he was as mesmerized by my nipples as I was myself. I had risked the online relationship by violating the rule and wouldn’t know its future until I got home tomorrow and checked my email inbox. I wouldn’t check now; I wanted to savor the day and the surprise I had successfully pulled off. I loved Bruce’s sense of humor and his gentle manner as much as his impulsively abrupt commands without warning: ‘Suck my cock’ ‘Let’s fuck now’ ‘Take off your clothes and play with yourself’. This may not be the stuff of romantic poetry, but it thrilled me and I would hate to lose it. I wasn’t used to being told what to do, but found that it stirred something inside me in ways that I hadn’t experienced before. I also knew that there might be an upside to my impulsive flight to England, that the violation of the rule might lead to occasional further encounters, and that my distance from him might make them infrequent, but that might also enhance the intensity of them.
Tonight, after a long flight and an anxious morning anticipating my Valentine’s Day surprise for Bruce, I knew that I would sleep well. But this afternoon, I felt restless. I should probably have just bought a bathing suit and gone swimming, but I was intrigued by the concierge’s words: “You know we also have a very nice workout facility. And the gift shop also has gym togs if you need them. The people up there are very helpful and very friendly.” ‘Very friendly’ sounded pretty good to me for, as emotionally satisfying as was the blow job I gave Bruce, it wasn’t entirely satisfying sexually. As a matter of fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I’d really like to finally experience the feeling of a man inside me. It had been far too long, and the brief contact with Bruce had really just awakened my desperate need for cock.
So, instead of my usual exercise of swimming laps, I decided to go to the gym. Maybe ‘very friendly’ meant there’d be men there, or even a woman would be okay. Cybersex had been great, but I knew that I needed to satisfy flesh—and for flesh to satisfy me. As I put on the little pair of shorts and the too-tight sports bra that made my always-poky nipples very visible, I wondered if there’d be some young hunk in the gym, a muscular Adonis who would want to ravish me. Not usually my type–I usually go for the buttoned-down look–but it seemed to match my sex-starved mood. As I put my hair in a ponytail and looked in the mirror to check out my ‘look’ I was quite pleased with the fuck-me appearance I presented. It certainly matched my mood.
When I walked into the gym facility, I felt as though I were entering a maze. The bright lights emphasized the pristine whiteness of all the mysterious equipment and I felt bewildered as I looked around the room. There were two women talking to one another on adjacent Stairmasters. Somewhere in the back a loud noise told me that someone with some expertise was working out on a machine. I headed that way, hoping that it might be the ‘very friendly’ attendant. You were punishing some sort of machine with powerful thrusts from your arms that made your pecs and abs—hell, your entire body–flare into definition. You made it seem almost effortless; instead of sweat dripping from you, there was just a fine sheen that emphasized your body’s perfection. You were sooooo not my type, well, except for right this minute. I wanted to turn you into a salt lick and was pretty sure my tongue was hanging out of my mouth when you stopped pumping and asked, “Can I help you?”
“Well, um, er, I guess you could if you’re the friendly attendant,” you hear me stammer. At that, you sat up and for the first time I saw your lovely face and tousled brown curls. Then, in a move so fast I didn’t see it happen, you were standing in front of me, taller, nearly towering over me, maybe 6-2.
My goodness, you are an Adonis, I thought. You were staring holes at my little sports bra and my nipples were trying their best to create those holes for you; as always, they were betraying my innermost and most lurid thoughts.
“Well, hehe, I don’t actually work here, but I’m pretty friendly and I’d be happy to try to help you. My name’s Dan. What do you want to do?” Your youthful face makes me wonder if you’re even out of your teens, but you are beautiful and I want to tell you that I want you to fuck me.
I held out my right hand and you took it gently in yours as you say, “Hi, Adonis, my name’s Gay.” You chuckled, and I blushed, at my Freudian slip, but you heard me try to recover. “I don’t know much about gyms, Dan, but I’d like to get a workout.” Your eyes opened wide and I knew I might as well have asked you to bend me over the nearest piece of mystery equipment and slip it to me. “Er, you know, get the blood flowing.” Oh…my…God! I must have sounded like a complete slut. He must think I’m some desperate old broad who’s craving…. Er, well, I guess I am.
“I don’t think getting the blood flowing is a problem, actually, hehe,” Dan said, smiling, maybe blushing a little. My eyes went straight to his crotch—I mentally slapped my forehead for doing yet another obvious thing—and, sure enough, he had quite a tent in the front of his little gym shorts. Oh yeah, I told myself. This is going to happen. I bent over the strange-looking machine in front of me, grabbed something that looked like the head-rest on top of an automobile’s front seat and asked, “What goes here?”
He leaned into me and his raging hard-on pressed into my butt crack. I wiggled my ass gently and rubbed his manhood, taunting and teasing, thinking only one thing: fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. His voice cracked a bit as he said, “Well, nor-, uh, normally your head.”
I bent over until my head was well below my butt, put a hand on the headrest and said, “Let’s get some exercise, Dan.”
As he began to slip my little gym shorts down over my ass, he cautioned, “I may not last very long. I’m pretty excited. But I’ll be able to get hard again in a minute or two.”
“Oh yes, you will, Dan. You can count on that.” I stepped out of my shorts, now clad only in sneakers and a sports bra, and felt his big cockhead poised at the entrance to my achingly-hungry, hot, wet pussy. I spread my stance wide, and pushed back against him, thrilling at the feeling of his manhood beginning to enter me. He thrust forward, tentatively at first, then fully impaling me with his rock-hard sword. The feeling of finally being filled again brought a tear to my eye. It had been too long, way too long.
Soon he was pounding into me with urgency and as his pace quickened I realized that he would soon be squirting his precious juices into me. I reached down between my legs and felt his full balls, teasing them a bit. My pussy was involuntarily sucking him off each time he entered me. I began to touch myself and immediately felt my own orgasm begin to rumble from deep within me. My beginning spasms brought a gasp from him, and he unleashed a remarkable series of spurts into me—at least a dozen—before slowing a bit, still sliding in and out of me as he wound down and I continued my internal earthquake. At last he pulled out of me and my shaking body sought balance from the headrest against which I still clung.
Recovering slightly, I turned to him and saw him glistening with sweat, muscles toned, a shy, self-satisfied smile on his face. I smiled at him and ran my hands down his muscular torso, then dropped to my knees before his semi-erect cock. As his massive load of cum ran out of me and down my thighs, I focused on our mixed juices covering his manhood. Still struggling to regain normal breathing, I licked his cockhead, savoring the salty-sweet mixture that is unique to every coupling but rarely unsatisfying. I tasted every inch of his long member, top, bottom and sides and concluded by licking my lips. My mouth absolutely craves strategic body parts, loves to feel them respond to me, loves the changing flavors as they perform their instinctual operations.
My hand grasped his cock and stroked it gently. It was clearly ready for more action, but I can’t help myself. My mouth went for his balls and I gently teabagged him, taking each nugget into my mouth, sucking gently, and laving it with my tongue. His cock was throbbing as much as my erect nipples and swollen clit; I grabbed the upright flagpole in one hand, regained my feet and pulled it down to try to straddle it, but he was just a bit too tall. He cupped my asscheeks and, almost effortlessly, lifted me, and I guided him to reentry into my waiting pussy.
I found myself impaled again, backed against a wall, leaning against it, and suspended by his strong hands on my bottom and his magnificent member deep, deep inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and I steadied myself by placing a hand around his neck. My other hand grabbed my sports bra and pulled it up until it was a necklace. His eyes widened when he saw my long, pink nipples, which were throbbing again with excitement and seeming to scream for attention. He immediate latched onto one and sucked hungrily, and began to slide in and out of me. I grabbed the other nipple with my free hand and begin to abuse it, tugging, twisting, pulling, and he got the idea. Tentatively at first, he his used his teeth on the other, biting gently. Still plunging into me with regularity, he then began to bite harder. I gasped at the pain-pleasure combination and pulled his head to the other nipple.
Consumed by the lust that surrounded me and continued to thrust deep inside me, again and again, my head lolled from side to side; my eyes lost and regained focus. When our two pairs of blue eyes met, I managed a big smile and my free hand reached down to cup his heavy ball sack, fondling the nuggets and spurring him to deeper penetration and a faster rhythm.
“I think I’m about to cum again, Gay,” Dan grunted through clenched teeth. Oh yes, you certainly are, young man, and so am I, so am I.
“Come for me, Dan, and I’ll cum all over your cock, drenching it.” In fact my self-lubricating system was already doing that. His final forceful thrust began a series—perhaps another dozen—of ejaculations by this remarkably-virile young man, and set off fireworks inside me that had me clutching anything I can hold as my body completely lost control and shuddered violently in spasm after spasm that left me as limp as a dishrag. As Dan gently set me back down on my feet, my wobbly knees couldn’t hold me up. The sweet young man held me as I regained my land-legs. Our fluids dripped down my thighs. My breath was short, but recovering. My joy was immeasurable. I stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.
“You know, Gay, I think I’m a little smitten,” he says as he strokes my hair and cheeks, softly, almost lovingly, and wipes away the little tears of joy that form at the corners of my eyes. “I could definitely get used to this.”
“You know what they say, Dan. You never outgrow your need for MILF.” And I staggered off to the shower room to clean my cum-soaked loins and to try to regain some degree of composure.
Under the scalding shower, I shuddered again at the ecstasy just given me by this wonderful young hunk—and I can’t help myself. I touched my nipples lightly and, as always, they sprang to attention again and sent jolts of electricity directly to my well-fucked pussy. One hand continued to tease, pull and twist my tender nipples while the other dove between my legs to touch my still-sensitive, coral-pink sex. I thrust two fingers inside myself and felt the recently-invaded space clamping down on them, accepting them hungrily. Two fingers pumped relentlessly and my thumb began to taunt my still-engorged clit, which again began to emerge from its hood. I couldn’t stop. The thought of the muscular young man had me creaming all over my hand and dripping down my legs again. I couldn’t get his cock out of my mind as I fucked myself toward what would be a third wonderful orgasm in a memorable workout at the gym.
I heard voices outside the shower room and knew there were women approaching. But, I couldn’t stop. I finger-fucked myself relentlessly and teased the button that awaited one final push. My eyes were closed against the rushing water from the shower, but when I heard the voices suddenly stop, I knew they must have been shocked when they saw this wanton slut fucking herself like a bitch in heat. I clamped my thumb down directly onto my swollen bud and bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming in ecstasy as I experienced yet another wave of wonderful spasms. They went on–and so did I with my fingers. At last I removed my hand, brought it to my lips, and sucked my juices from it. When I stepped aside and opened my eyes, I was staring at the two women.
They turned to leave, one with a dismissive exaggerated roll of eyes, the other with a wink, a smile and a comment over her shoulder, “Way to go girl!”
I blushed, then smiled, and managed to reply, “You should have seen the first two.”
From far down the hall I hear, “Oh, we did, we did.”
I was at first embarrassed at the thought that they had watched me sluttily seduce Dan into fucking me twice in the gym then fuck myself silly in the shower like an insatiable whore. But, I quickly realized that the warmth I felt wasn’t from embarrassment. In fact, I was utterly thrilled that my wanton behavior had an audience. As I thought to myself, ‘God, you are such a fucking slut,’ I felt myself grinning broadly.
—–
I slept through much of the long flight home to Florida the next day and thought very little about the events of the previous day—or their consequences. Only when I was finally back in my little beach place did I check my email and find one from Bruce: “Sorry we couldn’t spend more time together. I hope Dan proved to be an adequate Valentine’s Day present. Bruce”
I sighed contentedly, giggled a bit at his cleverness at finding me yesterday, and immediately replied: “Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
-30-

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Information

Sex – Avoided Subjects Discussed in Plain English – chapter- 7 : SEX IN THE MARRIAGE RELATION–THE HUSBAND

Henry Stanton’s 1922 book Sex – Avoided Subjects Discussed in Plain English is intended as a frank (although consevative and moralistic) guide to human sexual behaviour and relationships. It is partly a self-help book, partly an attempt to relay the scientific knowledge of the day in relation to sex and reproduction in a way suitable for popular consumption. It Has 10 Chapters- This is Chapter VII: SEX IN THE MARRIAGE RELATION–THE HUSBAND

Fantasy

Angie Pt1

This is my second story, a offshot of my first try. with a slightly different writing style.

Diary

The power of the boobs

He sat down on the backrest on the sofa and started massaged me, for a long long time. He started cuddle my neck, my cheek and then further down to my breasts. He did a quick grope, and then up again a couple of times,

Fantasy

Harry Potter Love You Part 4

Part four: Revenge!
“Ginny?” Hermione called. “Ginny, are you there?”
Ginny Weasley had been relaxing on her precious day off. The season was officially over, bar a dozen or so exhibition games and such, but the last match between Holyhead and Wimbourne had been positively brutal. Every foul that either team could get away with and a lot that they couldn’t, had been tried, and Ginny had been hit by at least three bludgers, and a thrown beater’s bat. Fortunately, her injuries were nothing the med-witch couldn’t fix up quickly. At the end of a four hour battle, Ginny had managed to nab the snitch less than a second before Montrose could, and the victory blow-out had lasted until late the next morning. Ginny was almost certain that that had been two days before, and was now nursing the lingering remnants of a well-earned hangover. Only for her very best girlfriend, would she even consider leaving her couch. Fortunately, she didn’t have to. She turned to her fireplace and greeted her long-time friend.
“Hello, Hermione!” She chirped. “It’s been too long!”
“Ginny, it was three days ago. May I come through?”
“Of course!” Ginny automatically cast the spell to open the floo and allow Hermione to come in.
Hermione whirled to a stop, wobbling a bit. She clutched her head, and groaned: “God, I hate the floo!”
Ginny chuckled as she stood to embrace her friend.
Collecting herself, she handed Ginny a flat white box, about ten inches on a side, from a Greek restaurant they both liked to frequent. “Congratulations on the win, Ginny. I heard about it on the WWN. I understand there was a near-riot after your catch!” Ginny smile happily in recollection, and accepted the offering.
As she opened the pasteboard lid and recognized the contents Ginny squealed loudly: “Oooh! Baklava! And from Cisneros’s, too!”
Hermione smiled warmly, as she knew Ginny loved the Greek pastry. Truth be told, she did as well.
Ginny quaffed a pepper-up potion, grimaced at the taste, and set about making coffee for them both. Hermione sat at the table, opened the box and doled out two pieces each.
When Ginny had finished making the coffee, they sat at the table, sipping and nibbling the sticky, nutty sweet. The pepper-up, had cleared her head, and eased the headache some.
“What’s on your mind, Herms?” She ventured, after a bit of inconsequential’s. “You don’t usually arrive bearing Baklava unless there’s a reason.”
“There is a reason, Ginny. I’ve left Ron. For good, this time. I’m going to be living with Harry.”
“Hermione, I know you love him, I do too, but you’d best forget about Harry.” Ginny cautioned her friend. She loved Harry and wanted him, but Ron told her, she didn‘t have a chance, “Yes, he’s a wonderful man, none better, but I was certain you knew… Harry seeks for the other team!”
“Ginny, Harry’s not gay. Ron just told us that to keep us from getting too close to him. In my case it was so he could have me to himself. In yours, well…officially, it was to ‘protect’ you…” Hermione made ‘quote’ marks in the air with her fingers. “…from the unwanted advances of the sexual predators that we like to call, men.” She sighed. “Now, however, I know it was to keep you from getting too close to Harry. If the two of you got serious, he knew I’d see through his little scheme.”
“Hunh?”
“Don’t grunt, Ginny. It’s unseemly.” The brunette chided gently. “Ginny, if Harry was dating you, would he be seen as gay?
“Mmmmm. No.”
“Correct. If I knew Harry was making love with you, then I’d know Ron lied about him being gay. You see?”
“Well, yeah, but I don’t understand. How did you find out Harry’s not gay? Did you sleep with him?”
Ginny’s eyes widened in shock and she leaned forward. Hermione’s eyes gave it away.
“You DID! Didn’t you?” She accused in wonderment.
“Well, I can’t say we did much sleeping…at least not for most of the time.” Hermione deadpanned, then blushed brightly. “And yes it was fantastic, the best. But that’s not how I found out.”
Ginny immediately wanted to know all the wonderfully juicy details of the great ‘Harry/Hermione all-night shag-fest’, but her best friend told her that that was for later. For the time being, Hermione explained to her friend, Ron’s duplicitous actions. By the time she’d related Winky’s description of her brother’s multiple partners, Ginny’s headache had returned full force, and she was ready to disembowel him with a pickle fork. While Hermione would have been happy to help her, she had a much better idea in mind.
Following her Hogwarts years, Hermione had ‘assisted’ Fred and George in several of their more advanced prank ideas. That assistance had earned her their undying gratitude and several patents which had guaranteed her a nice, tidy income for the remainder of her life, that Ron didn‘t know about, she never told him. Why hadn‘t she mmm, well they weren‘t married. And a small nest-egg is all ways a good ideal. Now, she reckoned her association with the terrible twins, would come in more than handy.
“Gin, I think we need to call in the experts.” At Ginny’s puzzled look, she drew a large ‘W’ and a smaller ‘3’ in the air. Ginny’s eyes popped. Then she literally fell off her chair, from a screaming fit of the giggles.
When she had finally calmed a bit, she hauled herself back into her chair, and demanded: “OK, Talk! You’ve shagged the green-eyed god! Now…” She stopped as the brunette shook her head and said: “Not just yet, Gin. Right now, we need to work out what to do about Ron.”
Ginny shivered. She was very grateful Hermione was not looking at her like that. She’d seen Lucius Malfoy with kinder eyes.
She thought about Hermione’s words, then, saying: “Be right back!”, left the kitchen. Hermione watched her friend rush away, then stood and followed.
Standing in the doorway leading to the lounge, she saw Ginny throw a pinch of floo powder into the fire and call out “Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes!” Seconds later, the head of one of the twins, Hermione really wasn’t certain which, floated in the flames.
“Hey Ginny. What’s up?” He greeted his little sister.
“Hermione and I need to talk to you both.” Ginny spoke to the floating head of twin number one. “It’s really important. Can you come by after you close up the shop?”
“Sure thing, Ginnybird! It’s hen’s night anyway. We’ll be there in about an hour or maybe less. Have something ready to eat, willya?”
“Naturally!” Ginny smirked. The head vanished. Ginny turned to Hermione.
“We’ll need something to eat. Any suggestions?”
Like Harry, Hermione loved to cook. She wasn’t quite as accomplished as he was, but then, she hadn’t had his years of experience as a human house-elf behind her.
“Do the twins like what they eat, or do they just eat.”
“Ron is the only one who just eats. The rest of us like to enjoy our food.”
“OK, lets see…hmmm. Do you have any fish? That’s easy and quick.”
“I just got some yellowtail in today. It’s in the freezer. That, and some Mako flank steaks.”
Hermione thought for a moment, then made her decision.
“Alright. I like the tuna, but I’m feeling in a predatory mood today. Let’s do the shark. Can you do a pilaf?”
“Of course.” Ginny replied, almost annoyed that Hermione would ask.
“OK, then. Let’s get to it!”
The girls turned to, and in a short while had prepared broiled Mako shark in lemon-garlic butter, stuffed with a fine pilaf of millet, barley, wheat and rice, which was spiced with herbs and a pinch of curry. An assortment of lightly steamed vegetables, fresh black bread and butterbeer accompanied the meal, with coffee and baklava to follow.
During the preparations, Ginny had the opportunity to interrogate her friend
“Alright, I’ve waited long enough! Spill!” She demanded once more. “How was he?”
” Ginny! He was bloody fantastic!” Hermione sighed in recall. “He’s a sweet, gentle, caring and completely wonderful lover!” She went on to describe in some detail, Harry’s sexual prowess. Ginny was positively drooling by the time she finished, her knickers were soaked..
“Will you share?” The redhead asked, hopeful.
Before she’d been introduced to the wizarding world, Hermione would have rejected the suggestion, outright. Since then, however, she had done extensive research on wizarding customs, and while certainly not the norm, marriage bonds consisting of more than two, were not uncommon, as evidenced by Fred and George’s relationship with Angelina and Alicia. Dean, Angela and Ramona, for another. She and Ginny had ‘explored’ each other rather thoroughly, during their years at Hogwarts, and so, she was really not adverse to her friend’s request.
“Well, since you’re my best friend, and one of his, I’ll consider it. But, you have to understand this, Ginny; Harry might not be willing. He’s had a terribly hard life, and he may have been brought up in the monogamy fashion, as is the custom with most muggles…if he’s been trained at all, that is. Those wretched Dursleys have done him a hideous amount of damage. It’ll be a wonder if he can be made whole at all! And Dumbledore didn‘t help.”
Ginny wiped a tear from her eye a she thought about the boy who had been abused, in one form or other, by almost everybody, including herself a little. Hermione spoke again.
“Ginny, Harry asked me to marry him.” Her quiet words shocked Ginny to silence. She held out her left hand.
“Oh, Goddess! Hermione! It’s gorgeous! Ginny burst out; goggling at the engagement ring Hermione wore.
“I am so jealous! Does mum know?” She asked, excitedly.
“She knows about Ron. I haven’t told anyone about this. You’re the first.”
The redhead squealed softly and hugged her best friend, tightly. She’d always known Harry loved Hermione, even during their own short-lived relationship in her fifth year at Hogwarts, she had hoped Harry would come to love her, but when Ron told her Harry was gay, she decided to be just his friend. Now, she was all grins, for her best friend and was rather pissed off at Ron, he lied to her about Harry, she might have made him hers. ‘Damn that git brother of hers‘.
“You realize mum is going to want to coordinate the wedding, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but she’ll have to go toe to toe with my mum…unless we can somehow con them into working together… Hmmm.” Hermione was drifting, but suddenly shook her head rapidly as if to rid her mind of unwanted thoughts. “No…no, that’s for later.” The timer chimed as the fish was done broiling. Hermione turned the heat off, and together they chatted of inconsequential’s, as they waited.
Seven minutes later, Fred’s head appeared in the fire, hollering for Ginny. When she leaned down before the hearth, he asked if it was OK to come through. Ginny smiled and nodded in welcome, then moved aside.
He and his twin whirled to a stop, seconds apart. Hermione cast a cleaning charm on them both and then wrapped each in a warm and welcoming hug.
Together, they sat to table, and began to discuss Hermione’s revelations while eating the meal the girls had prepared.
George spoke when Hermione had finished. “Once again, our dear brother Ronald has managed to disgrace the entire Weasley clan!”
“Absolutely disgusting!” Fred added. Then they went into their patented twin- speech.
“That Ron would do…”
“Something so degrading…”
“As having so many girls…”
“Without their knowing!”
“Wait a moment. Isn’t that rather hypocritical of you?” Hermione asked; a bit surprised at their disapproval, given their own living arrangements. “I mean, you two are living with Alicia and Angelina, Aren’t you? Didn’t you once tell me that you trade off, on occasion?”
“And Katy, Helen and Lee, too.” Answered George. Fred threw in: “And sometimes, yes. We do.”
“But they all know about each other.” George added.
“We may be pranksters…”
“But there are limits.”
“We would never…”
“Intentionally…”
“Hurt anyone…”
“At least anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” They chimed.
“I really wish you’d tell me how you do that!” She mock-pouted.
“Sorry, luv. Trade secret.” Fred began.
“If we told you…” George continued the thought without pause.
“We’d have to kill you!” They chimed again, both grinning evilly.
“Seriously, Hermione.” George really was serious, for one of the few times she’d known him. “We love the pranks, we live for them actually, but to hurt someone…no, no, to…to betray someone, your best friend, at that, just to stroke your own miserable ego…I’m sorry, luv, but that is just totally wrong!”
“Don’t apologize, George. I totally agree.” She returned, tightly.
Fred took over. “We think it’s time someone knocked the starch, not to mention the stuffing, out of our little brother.”
“I can count on your help, then?”
“Absolutely.” They spoke in unison. Then George leaned forward, resting on an elbow and added in a conspiratorial voice: “So, what’ve you got in mind?”
“Well, I thought I’d teach him a ‘little lesson’ about using people the way he has. I’ve asked Harry to stay clear of this unless absolutely necessary, because as angry at Ron as he is, his getting openly involved in this, would most likely do even more damage to his reputation. Ron would soak that up, and play the wounded party perfectly. He’s good at that, and the fish-wrappers are just itching to find something else to use against him. His buying the Prophet stock helped some, but dear Rita simply hired on with that gossip rag, um, the…well whatever it’s called.” Hermione flicked her hand in dismissal. “They’ll print anything! As it is. I’ve discovered the identities of each of his other ladies. I want you to help me have a little bird put a bug in their ears. As for me, Ron has hurt me, terribly. He hurt me, and he hurt Harry…”
She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “…and he used me to hurt my best friend.” Then in a sort of whispered sob “he hurt Harry, my sweet Harry” as her eyes teared up.
And then again almost to low to be heard, she turned to Ginny and grabbed her, and wept onto her shoulder “all those years…Harry”
It all caved in on her, the hurt, not her, Harry‘s …
She remembered ‘seeing the light in Harry eyes died without realizing why’ she murmured “oh Harry”…
She could now see the underlining sadness of all their get togethers, “oh”… she moaned
Of Winky’s ‘Master Harry Potter does not has a lady-friend. Master is all alone.’ She cried.
‘Winky wishes master did have a special friend, for then, master would not be so very, very lonesome..
Sad inside’
She whimpered “ lone.. sad”…
then Molly’s words ‘I’ve never known Harry to be particularly gay. In fact, he’s usually quite the opposite‘. “not gay, hurt.. Hurting.. oh Harr…“ She cried
A few minutes later as she groaned “all these years….Harry we.. we.. I I.. I hurt you.. hur…” She shaking and soaking Ginny blouse with her tears
Then somewhere as in a daze she barely heard Ginny “Hermione it wasn’t you, it was Ron, it was Ron who did this”
She muttered “Ron”
After who knows how many minutes and tears, and Ginny holding her tighter, “I didn’t see”
sobbing “I should have… should ha…”
another sob, Shakily she softy cried “I kept hur…”
a mournful cry “all these years hurting him”. She cried uncontrollable, she could now see the hurt in Harry’s eyes that she never acknowledged. “I kept hurting him…”
Ginny hugged her tighter repeating again and again, “it wasn’t you who hurt Harry, it was my plat brother“, after more minutes and tears, she calmed down slightly, still sobbing.
Slowly she realized Ron used her, used her to hurt Harry… That smirk ‘I just get something Harry wants’ chant of his “I get something Harry wants” in a bare whisper
Then she mumbled so low only Ginny could hear “ He used me… shagged me to hurt Haarr…to hurt Harr….y “ and the tears flooded again..”I should hav…seen….
Ginny said quietly “it’s ok now Herms, it’s ok, you’re with Harry now” as she hugged her friend.
“I hurt him Gin I hurt him..” she bawled.
Sobbing “I saw the hurt and didn’t see… I should have seen… shou“…
More minutes of crying racked Hermione body, finally Ginny got thru Hermione’s tears. “It was my brother lies, not you Hermione it was Ron….. you know Harry loves you, and you love him. You’re together now, you‘re going to marry him, He ask you to Marry Him!”
“Love him…marry… have his children… Love him always” Hermione said softly, looking at Ginny’s face, then she kissed her friend and sat back up, wiping her face “Thank You, Gin I I don‘t know…“.
”You needed to get it out Hermione, so you can heal, it‘s over, you got Harry now”
Some minutes later, Her voice grew more forceful. Rage with tears still in her eyes.
“I want him to pay! I want him to know precisely how it feels, to be hurt like this.” She gritted between clenched teeth. “And I want it to be something really humiliating! For hurting me, using me!”
Ginny, Fred and George looked at their friend, one moment a bawling blubbing wreck, the next The Avenging Angel. They all knew Ron was in rough road ahead, if Hermione doesn’t kill him.
“To to hurt, he hurt Harry, My sweet Harry, the years of pain he caused Harry, to pay for the lies to me, to Harry, He got to pay!!!“.
Fred leaned back, thought for a minute, then turned to George, and said: “Tonks?”
Nodding with a nasty grin George agreed. “Tonks!”
“What about Tonks?” Hermione asked, calm, well somewhat and getting better by the minute, drying the tears from her eyes, puzzled that the clumsy, but flamboyant Auror would even be mentioned.
“Hermione, our beautiful and brilliant, sometimes co-conspirator, most people don’t look past our sign. They see us as simple purveyors of jokes and pranks. Not many know that that W-3 has diversified. We have our fingers in quite a number of pies.” George replied.
“Tonks is one of our favorite partners.” Fred added. “During the last part of the war, she told us what the Auror Corps really needed, helped us arrange funding, and provided the market for our ‘special line’. She can’t officially help, of course, being as she’s the chief of her department, now, and the ministry, namely dad, would likely take a dim view of Senior Aurors aiding and abetting a prank of this type, especially considering the prank-ee is one of the ‘heroes of the wizarding world’…but, maybe she could help behind the scenes.”
“How do you mean?”
“Hermione, do you really think we managed to explore all of Hogwarts castle by ourselves?”
“Well, you did have the map…” She replied uncertainly. To be honest, Hermione still wasn’t certain how the twins had managed to get into so many places at Hogwarts. The wards in the castle should have prevented it, but somehow, they had always managed.
“We didn’t nick the map until the middle of our first year. Matter of fact, it was Tonks who suggested we ‘find a way’ into Filch’s office. She told us that there was a whole treasure trove…a filing drawer filled with confiscated items, that might prove to be ‘useful’ to our chosen careers. It turns out she did something of the sort in her second year. Until we came along, in her fourth, she was the undisputed prank-master of Hogwarts. She told us that the second she saw us, she knew we’d be able to take up the mantle when she left.”
Hermione grinned widely. She had the feeling that she was going to love this! George grinned wickedly and went to the floo, to call her.
Tonks had arrived soon, having just finished her paperwork. She groused that it was much more fun to do the fieldwork. Remus, who had just gotten off his job at the Magical Beings Liaison Office, accompanied her. Seeing Hermione, they fell on her, scolding her for not keeping in touch, then wrapped her in a warm double-embrace.
As Hermione was explaining the situation again, without breaking down. Bill, Fleur and Charlie flooed, asking permission to come over. They were greeted by one and all with hugs and kisses. Fleur was showing her third pregnancy quite well. As the girls gathered around to fuss over her, Bill, standing at her elbow, spoke quietly.
“Mum told us there’s a problem with our dear prat of a brother. Can we help?”
Hermione smiled at the support.
Soon enough, the maternal instinct was temporarily sated and those gathered returned to the topic of a wayward redhead.
Hermione launched into her explanation once more.
To say that Fleur was incensed would be like describing the sinking of Atlantis as an erosion problem. She took on a distinctly avian aspect. Her eyes blazed a bright yellow and her features sharpened into something hawk like. Her hands began to curve into talons and she fairly glowed with power. Bill hurriedly stood and tried to calm her. Unfortunately, Fleur wasn’t having any at all. She pushed him aside and growled: “Mon De’esse! Que pensait-il? Il devrait’ etre fouette! Oooh! Il merite’ d’etre Chatre’!” Hermione winced and Bill paled, as apparently they were the only ones besides Fleur who spoke French. Fleur slipped back into English, her accent made heavy by anger. “‘E should be…’E should be shopped into tiny little bits and srown into ze fire!”
Everybody, even Hermione, grimaced at that rather nasty idea, at first. Then Hermione slightly grinned for a moment, and added “That would be to quick, he needs to suffer”. Oh the look in her eye.
Bill finally managed to gently drag his wife into the other room, where he held her warmly and nuzzled her neck, until she began to calm.
Hermione barely heard Charlie’s muttered comment: “Braver man than I am, Gunga Din!”
Tonks stood and pulled Remus into next room. They could all see the two having an animated but silent conversation. Finally, Tonks grinned madly, hugged Remus tightly and kissed his cheek, then led him back to the table.
“Well, Hermione…” Tonks began. “This is what I’d recommend.” She whispered the idea into Hermione’s ear. As she listened, Hermione’s eyes widened, first in shock, then in glee.
“YES! Yes! Yes!” She squealed, dancing around like a four year old and pumping her fist in the air. Placing one hand on her stomach, she began to flex her hips and shoulders in a manner that got the instant attention of every male present, and sang: “It’s perfect! It’s perfect! Oooohhh, Baybeee it’s perfect!”
Fred, George, Ginny, Bill, Fleur and Charlie all stared at her as if she’d gone completely bonkers.
Braving the lunatic, Charlie asked: “Erm…Hermione? What’s perfect?”
Hermione looked at Tonks for permission. Receiving a nod, she explained.
Her audience erupted in howls of laughter.
Later after all was said and done, plan made, suddenly Hermione thought of Harry’s pain again, however this time she didn’t break down, she dwelled on Ron telling Her and Ginny, Harry was gay. Just to… And a idea hit her, add ‘Just a little twist’ for Harry‘s pain. And she laugh out loud, everyone turning to her “What?”
She said still laughing “sorry just thought of something”
Needless to say they were worried about her, but she assured them she was ok as she still laughed, almost crying.
It was getting late and the little get together started breaking up, every one began headed out, Ginny being worried, she had see her friend go from normal, to happy, to pissed off, to a bubbling ball of shame and pain, to an Avenging Angel, to a dancing ninny, then a scheming female, to a laughing hyena, What’s next? So she asked if Hermione wanted to spend the night.
Without a moment hesitation, she said “no I’m going Home, nice thought though thank you Ginny…“.
She started to hug Ginny bye, but stopped, sort of whispered “Home” smiled, as one the warmest of glow she ever had, wrapped her whole being, ‘Home, Harry and her Home‘, and just stood there basking in the feeling.
Ginny had never seen a happier look on her friends face. She was somewhere far away, so heavenly, after a minute or two she asked “Hermione, what… you ok?“
She only answered, “Home… Home to Harry”, kissed Ginny bye and rushed Home to her Love.
Ginny stood for a moment ”what the hell was that about?”
As Ginny readied for bed, she cried a little, oh she was happy for her friend, but she had dreamed of Harry for so long. Her git brother convinced her not to waste her time, but sometime she had thought about going after him anyway, especially when she had ‘The Dream‘. She hadn’t had that one for near six months nor any of her Harry dreams a fortnight or so, but she knew she would tonight.
Harry wasn’t sure what had happen to Hermione at Ginny‘s, but that night he knew he was happiest and the luckiest man in the world.
She came in, gave him the most Loving soulful retching Kiss ever, it left him gasping for air, she stripped, ripped his clothes off, sucked him dry, then rode him until she collapsed, then asked him to roll them over and make love to her, which He did. slow wonderful love, all the while she moaned his name and her love for him, he finished inside her, she rolled him over and did it all over again.
In the aftermath, as his beloved laid in his arms. “I love you Hermione Jean Granger, I always have and will” He whispered.
“I Love you Harry James Potter with all my being“ she purred before sleep overtook her.
Both Hermione and Harry were sore the next morning, But that didn’t stop them, after a couple of soothing spells, a long hot shower, they made love again, Twice, then breakfast although it could have been lunch They were enjoying each other again, several times.
Hermione worn out and sleeping peacefully, Harry slipped out of bed for a nature call, a soothing spell and a pep-up potion, just sat and watched his love sleep, finally called “Winky”
“Yes master Harry Potter sir” as she appeared.
“Winky, Hermione needs to sleep”
“Oh yes the Master worn out his Misses, he has, Winky so happy master has his misses now”
“Huh, thank you, I need to go out for a few minutes, I shouldn’t be long, but if Hermione wakes, tell her I love her and will be right back”
“Of course master Harry Potter sir, Winky will take good care of master misses”
“Thanks Winky” and he dressed and head to Ginny’s
“Ginny” his head pop out the floo.
“Oh hi Harry, just a second” the waved “Come on thru”
“Thanks” as he stepped thru and Ginny caught him “I hate those things”
They hugged and Ginny ask “What can I do for you.. Stud”
“Huh, oh Hermione oh…” and he turned almost the color of her hair.
She giggled.
“You know about Ron and all of course” Ginny nodded
“I’m not going to interfere in whatever Hermione planning”… he looked perplexed.
“I was wanting… huh.. what.. “ he studdered
“She.. oh hell what I really want to know is what happen last night, Hermione came home grinning like the Cat who got a crate full of canaries, buckets of cream and a thousand mice. Gave me the most fantastic kiss, ripped our clothes off and we made love for six hours or was it seven… She passed out on our bed, I held her for awhile. Then I slept the best I even had, woke up for natures call, had a shower, took a pep-up and a soothing potion, watched Hermione sleep for an hour or so and decided I’d ask you what happen last night…. So what happen?”
Ginny just looked at him, gobsmacked
“Ginny.. Ginny … happen last night”
“oh my goddess six/seven hours, then held her…. watched her sleep.. Damn, I’m so jealous..” Her eyes kind of glazed over.
“Ginny”
“Yes Harry”
“What happen last night”
“Huh seven hours… “
“Ginny”
“Ginny huh Hermione”
“Huh… oh yeah,” Ginny slowly began rambling, ” Hermione came in.. in with a Baklava… from Cisneros’s… we talk and nibbled.. she show me her ring, gorgeous ring, we talked, she kept trying to talk about my prat brother, I wanted to talk about you and her se… huh get together… seven hours, Merlin … we called Fred and George over… Made supper, they showed up we talked about the prat, Hermione broke down and cried for about an hour, about Ron’s hurting you and her, the hurt and everything caved in on her, She loves you, you know more than anything, she started blaming herself for all those years of pain you had, the hurting”
“I..”
“I know and she knows, the whole thing finally just over ran her, good thing to, think its out of her system… I finally got thru to her it was Ron’s fault not hers, then she got angry, I mean angry, if Ron had walked in right then she would have ripped to tiny little pieces with her bare hands. She told us she needed to pay him back of all the hurt. Fred and George decided it be best to call Tonks”
“Tonks?”
“Yea seems as good or better than the twins at pranks, She and Remus show up after she got off work. Hermione started telling what happen, Bill, Fleur and Charlie showed up so, talked about the baby, Hermione started over, with out breaking down, every one was piss. Fleur started changing, talking French, that’s one scary lady.. Bill calmed down Fleur. Tonks and Remus talked, told Hermione, She jumped up and down dancing like a kid in a free candy store. Then told us, we worked on it and fixed any faults. We sat for awhile and talked, then everyone went home. Home… that’s it” Ginny snapped her fingers as what happen dawn on her.
“Home, what’s it”
“Oh, yeah home, I asked Hermione if she wanted to spend the night and she said no she was going Home. I tell you got her for life Harry and if you hurt her I’ll rip your balls off and stuff them in your mouth.”
“What did I do?”
“Oh I’m sorry… were was I oh she said she was going Home. I never seen anyone so instantly chuffed, Harry she glowed I mean glowed, simply because she was going Home, to your and her Home, not house Home. Her Home with you. Just like the hurt that fell in on her earlier, but opposite, she realized she was going Home to you. You understand right”
“Oh… Yes I see now, that explains a lot Thank you, I should get home… Home yeah I understand… Home to her Thanks Ginny Bye” then Harry kissed her and headed to the floo.
“ seven hours, Goddess” ‘damn that git brother of mine‘.
‘seven hours, damn my knickers are soaking’
Hermione’s revenge was a masterwork of spell-craft
Within a month, preparations were complete and the spell were cast..
Hermione walked into the room filled with nervous women, Seventeen nervous women. None of them knew what was going on. Only that they had been brought here to this conference room in the London Marriott. All eyes turned to her as she entered.
“Hello, ladies. Welcome to London. My name is Hermione Granger.” Hermione addressed the gathered women.
It had been a hideous lot of work, coordinating this. Molly had agreed to keep Ron at the Burrow for the day, busy doing chores that ‘just had to be done, and no one around to do them’. The conspirators had gotten together, located all Ron’s girls and asked them to attend this meeting. They had told each of the women that there was a vital meeting with Ron’s solicitor necessary to be included in any bequests. A few girls refused to have any part of it, saying they didn’t want any of Ron’s money. Those girls had been persuaded to come ‘willingly’ with some cooperation charms that weren’t exactly the lightest of magicks. Harry’s money smoothed over the travel arrangements, and he had personally gone to some employers to ‘arrange’ for short holidays for those girls that needed help.
The room quieted and Hermione began to speak.
“Officially, until just recently, I was Ronald Weasley’s only girlfriend!” This brought a moment of silence as each girl there, digested this tidbit. Then the shit truly hit the fan! Only judiciously applied silencing charms kept the hotel staff unaware of the near-riot taking place in the in the seventh floor conference room.
Ron Weasley had been having a bad couple of months. First Hermione had gone and run off with that pouf, Potter, his so called best friend. Then, just a week later, Harry had the nerve to ask him, in front of his whole family, no less, to be his bloody best man! He was going to marry the slag.
What could he do? The whole bunch of them would likely roast him over an open pit if he’d even considered refusing, so he’d smiled and agreed.
Well at least he had her first, he smiled to himself, Harry getting my leftovers. Hope he like loose pussy. He’ll know I broke her in good their wedding night. Hell she’ll most likely be back within a month or so after the wedding, begging for “the Ron-meister” to shag her…worthless mudblood… Maybe I will maybe not…. Of course we’ll have to keep it a secret, so Hermione, the whore, can stay married to Harry’s money… so she can send me some… guess maybe I will shag the whore and take Harry‘s money… later I’ll bring in another bird and have that skank Hermione eat my leavings out of the bird’s fresh shagged pussy as I stick it to her whore arse, the slut… I’ll make her my sex toy… even give her to my teammates for a bang… Now wouldn’t that be bloody brilliant Harry’s love being shagged by the whole team.. of course I’ll take photos, so I can send them to Harry and that rag press when I‘m done with her… no I won‘t send them to Harry I‘ll hand them personally, that way I can see the look on his face, when he see his precious Hermione’s spunk covered body with a dick in her mouth, pussy, ass and each hand at the same time, loving it, with more blokes waiting their turn and… yea a current Daily Prophet showing the date… She’ll be out on her arse so fast and Harry will be begging to be my best friend again… Fuck him, hell maybe I‘ll play him to. Brilliant!!
Just a week ago, just over two months after Hermione left him, he’d stood by and watched his old ‘friend’ marry his girl, his ex-girl, the whore, ‘she just wants Harry‘s money‘, he said to himself.
To make matters worse, after the guests had gone, Ginny had walked up to him and slapped him hard enough to knock him on his arse. None of his family would even talk to him. “What did I do?”
The twins had apparently declared a prank war on him. He’d wake up cemented to his bed, or the water would turn him orange, or suddenly he’d have two left hands…that sort of rubbish!
The morning after the wedding, he got a howler from his mum…at the clubhouse! The whole team had had a good laugh at that! Somehow, she’d found out about his harem. And now, to make things worse, all of his girls are suddenly ‘unavailable’. They wouldn’t even return his calls, floo or phone…not that it would do him any good. For the past month, or so, he’d been having a ‘little problem’.
Today, almost three months after Hermione left him, was the worst of the lot. He angrily clutched the crumpled sheet of yellow parchment in his fist. He’d been sidelined! Coach McGrath had explained very carefully that his performance had dropped below standards, and he was being relegated to the reserve. Ron had almost quit over that. Only the idea of returning to his family, as a complete failure, stayed his quill…plus the fact that he’d have to return his signing bonus, most of which, he’d already spent.
He walked into the clubhouse to find the rest of the team at the bar. Quidditch hags abounded, even for the Cannons, and tonight was no different, although the girls were a bit scarce. Those who were there, were already attached. ‘Ah well.’ He thought.
A guy at the bar handed him a shot of Old Ogden’s and a mug of stout, then walked away, swiping a flannel here and there. Ron turned to the bar tossed back the shot, and took a healthy swig of his beer.
The helpful man at the bar walked into the hallway leading to the loo’s, and out the door. He smiled nastily, and quietly disapparated.
Seeker, Steven Katzmann joined him at the bar. “Oy Ron! What happened? I heard you’ve been sent to the reserve!”
“I have no bloody idea, Steve. I must have hacked off the wrong god, or something. My life has been shit lately! I can’t believe they sent me to the bench!”
He took a long draw at his ale, then continued. “I may have missed a couple, lately, but there aren’t many who can compete with me. My saves are in the thousands! Hell, I’m one of the top three keepers in the league!”
“Ron, I don’t know if I’m the one to say this, but you know I can’t turn down an opportunity to rain on your parade.”
“Yeah. I noticed that about you, mate. What do you think?”
“Personally, I think…Hermione. You got caught, didn’t you?”
Ron sighed. “Yeah. A couple months ag….” His eyes grew round.
Steve grinned. He so loved to be the one to deliver bad news to Ron. Of course, the two of them took it in turns. They had a ‘friendly rivalry’ going to see who could bring the other the most bad news. Seeing as how they were both quite often in trouble, the competition had grown rather fierce. Steve even understood that the rest of the team was betting on their final tally each year. This year, he was going to win. Ron wasn’t a bad sort, but hey, sports is sports, hunh?
“Mebbee she put a bug in ol’ lady Phillips ear. You know she don’t take well to people cheating on their wives and such. She’s still hacked off at her ol’ man, for that, and that was way back in fourty-two!”
Ron spoke again. “Nahh. Hermione isn’t the type to do this. She may hex me, or maybe even hit me, but she’s not the type to go for this kind of revenge. I’ve been getting shit from all sides, for a while now.”
And Ron being Ron said “Just as well I was going to dump her anyway, lately she had become too possessive, and she’s not that mint of a fuck to be so demanding”.
“Who’s she with now?”
“Harry. But he’s not the type either. This feels like something planned. Not some one-time thing. He’s impulsive, not calculating. He hit me pretty hard, busted my nose, in fact, but after that…well, he always was rather protective of her.”
‘Harry?’ Steve thought he knew all Ron’s friends. This ‘Harry’ was a new one on him. “Harry, who?”
“Potter.”
“You know Harry Potter, The Harry Potter?” Steve was stunned. He’d heard some rumors about Ron, but he never really gave them much credence.
“Of course, I know Harry Potter! We were best mates in school! Me, Harry and Hermione. They used to call us ‘the golden trio’. We fought together when Harry destroyed Voldemort. Hell, I even got the Order of Merlyn, out of it! Hermione did too!”
Steve was stunned. He’d never met anyone who’d been awarded the coveted Order of Merlyn before, and now he found he’d been on the same team as someone who had, for the past three years! On top of that, his teammate was friends with Harry frickin’ Potter, the bloke who kicked the dark lord’s arse!
“Harry Potter! Wow! Do you think he’d…?”
“Naah.” Ron shook his head in disgust. “He never makes appearances anymore. He says he hated the publicity of being ‘The-boy-who-lived’. Like anybody’d fall for that!” Ron sneered at the idea of anyone not loving the fame and glory Harry enjoyed.
“Well, shit!”
“He sometimes comes to the matches here, or at Holyhead, but he’s always in disguise.”
“Why would he go to see Holyhead play?”
“Oh, that. My sister, Ginny, is their starting seeker, they almost dated.” Ron turned to his drink again.
‘I broke that up I can break Hermione and Harry up too, when she comes begging for a shag, I’ll bugger the whore for awhile and kick her out onto the street’ he mused.
On the other side of the bar someone began to laugh.
Ron thought hard for a minute, then his eyes rounded again. “No!” He spat out the word like a curse.
“What?” Steve asked.
“Ginny!”
“Ooookay! Your sister What about her?”
“Hermione and Ginny are thick as thieves, and Ginny loves Harry, too. She always has. Now, Hermione wouldn’t go for revenge, and Harry ‘the white bloody knight’ wouldn’t either, but Ginny would. Oh yes! Ginny definitely would! I don’t think she’d go as far as getting me sacked, but she would want to make me pay. Oh, hell! If she’s found out about my other birds…Shit! I gotta hide.” Ron jumped up from the stool only to find all the other players and their groupies pointing at him, laughing.
“What?” He asked, the air around him.
Steve answered. “Ron, did you know your hair just turned purple and green? We’re playing against Puddlemere tomorrow!”
Horrified, Ron turned to the full-length mirror over the bar. Sure enough, his hair was divided into three neatly defined stripes. The largest middle one being purple, the outer two a blazing neon green. The colors favored by Puddlemere United.”
“BlOODY HELL!”
The game against Puddlemere did not go well at all. It seemed that the Cannons couldn’t stop a single goal and only scored one. The game ended at four hundred fifty to ten. Ron had dyed his hair a vibrant orange, to cover what he was certain was a prank by the twins, Fred and George. It didn’t help. Whatever they had used, be it a potion, or more likely, a spell, resisted concealment. The vibrant purple and green came right through. Ron could see the Cannons’ owner sitting in the top with too many familiar figures. Most of the Weasley’s were there, along with Harry and Hermione, ‘the slag hanging all over Harry, pretending she loves him‘. Every time he looked, he could see Harry’s emerald green eyes flashing in the sun. it was unsettling, Ron wanted to crawl into his jersey.
Once the word got out, that Potter was there, almost everybody in the stadium craned their necks to see the Hero of the wizarding world. Unfortunately Ron’s teammate Steve, was paying more attention to Harry than to his game. A bludger hit him between the shoulder blades and knocked him completely off his broom. The only thing that saved him from a long stay in St. Mungos, was Harry, who whipped out his wand and bellowed an arresting charm.
Katzmann still hit pretty hard. The stadium’s healers floated his body off the pitch and to the infirmary.
Ron’s new week started badly, by his being called on the carpet. The Cannons’ owner, one Alice Phillips, had seen his ‘unusual’ hairdo, and demanded he explain to her satisfaction, his apparent defection to the enemy. That led to his explaining about the prank presumably played by his brothers, who were now well known throughout the wizarding world for their joke shop, and then to his sister who was seeker for the Harpies. That little tit bit did not garner him any friends on the board! Still, Mrs. Phillips wanted to know why Ron’s brothers and his sister, would play such a vicious prank on him, especially as he would likely be quite visible to the fans.
Slowly, painfully, the truth was dragged out. To say Mrs. Phillips was not pleased would to be an understatement of nearly Biblical proportions. She summarily dismissed the rest of the board and stood nose to nose with Ron for the next hour screaming invective at him at the top of her voice, like a South London dockworker. Ron noted some hours later, in the tiny little part of his brain that was not still cringing in shock, astonishment and outright terror, that in all the time she was screeching she never once repeated a single foul word.
Relieved he had only been suspended for a month and not sacked, Ron decided to stop by the clubhouse and find someone to ‘commiserate’ with. He only hoped his ‘little problem’ would not show up tonight.
The party to welcome Steven Katzmann back from his short stay at St. Mungos was in full swing.
He’d reported that Harry Potter, of all people, had visited him in his room after the healers had finished with him! Potter even laughtly had called him a bloody idiot for losing concentration during a match, but signed his jersey before leaving. The signed jersey now hung behind the bar protected by the best security charms money could buy. People clustered here and there drinking, swapping stories of past matches and playing snooker for pints.
Ron walked in, to be greeted by a loud “Hurrah!”
Everybody there knew about his dressing down at the hands of the teams’ owner, no less, and welcomed the survivor with the usual harassment. Pints were thrust his way, and a bevy of lovely young lasses, all wanting to shag a Quiddich player, grouped around him. Instantly his erection sprouted. Fortunately, his robes hid it well. Ron dearly hoped it wouldn’t desert him when he needed it. That had happened so often, of late. He put it down to stress, and dismissed it entirely.
Grabbing one of the offered mugs, Ron took a swig, and wrapped his arm around the nearest girl.
The party lasted well into the night. As the team would not be playing for a fortnight, or training until Monday, they were not too concerned with the regular curfew. They’d played hard, and lost spectacularly. “That ought to count for something, neh?” They had argued, rather successfully, it seemed.
As Ron was suspended, he didn’t have a curfew. He and his soon-to-be conquest, Jennifer, played, drank, snogged, groped, touched, tickled, teased and did everything but actually shag, before they left together.
Ron and Jennifer stumbled drunkenly up the stairs to his flat. Wrapped in each other they fumbled the door open and fell inward.
“Bloody hell!” He growled. Jennifer just lay there, giggling.
Gaining his feet, Ron reached down and pulled his groupie to hers. Before they even reached the door to his bedroom, her top had gone flying, followed by his robe and her bra. He stumbled as he pulled her pants down over her luscious arse.
Walking and stripping your girl while drunk was hard to do, even for wizards.
In the bedroom, he pushed her onto the bed, and pulled her knickers down her legs. She was open, wet and ready for him. Tossing the undergarment behind him, he unzipped his own trousers, and yanked them and his boxers off.
Now, he stood in all his not-inconsiderable glory. Jennifer’s eyes widened at the sight and she savored the thought of the treat, which this night would be. Grinning wantonly, she drew her knees up and slowly let them fall to the sheets
. Ron settled over Jennifer, she waited anxiously as he positioned his cock at her opened pussy. He pushed into her, and thrust a couple times, grinning. ‘YES!’ He crowed triumphantly to himself.
Then it all went south.
His erection flagged immediately, and he slipped out. Try as he might, he couldn’t get it to return. An hour later, a exasperated Jennifer walked out, in utter contempt, cursed “limp dick fairy”
Every month, regular as clockwork, Ron would get a letter from Harry and Hermione. Of course, he always threw the letters into the fire. He didn’t want to talk to those traitors!
Half a year later, Harry and Hermione Potter returned from their around-the-world honeymoon cruise. Ron was waiting. The next day, he apparated to Godric’s Hollow, walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
Harry opened the door, and broke into a hearty grin as he greeted his oldest friend.
“Ron! Hey mate. How are you? Come in, come in!” Harry escorted Ron to the lounge, plonked him onto the deeply cushioned sofa, and asked Winky to provide some tea and biscuits.
The house elf returned and placed the tea service on the coffee table. As she popped away, Ron could have sworn she had smiled a particularly vindictive smile. He shuddered as icy tingles ran down his spine. Harry sat opposite, and poured. Handing the teacup to his mate, Harry asked: “How’ve you been, Ron?” It had been a long while since they’d seen each other, after all, and he wanted to catch up.
“Harry?” Ron asked, with no preamble. “Can you tell me what Hermione did?”
“What do you mean, Ron?” Harry appeared honestly curious, although he knew precisely what Ron was asking.
“Harry, I know it wouldn’t have been you. You’re not the type to do that to a bloke. Hermione is smart enough to think of it, but I honestly didn’t think she was either, until I overheard Ginny and the twins talking. She cast some sort of spell on me that makes it so I can’t…well, you know! Hell I can’t even wank”
Ron was now blushing so brightly, Harry was tempted to turn out the lights, just to see what would happen.
Hermione chose that moment to walk in, with a nasty smirk.
“Ronald.” She explained. “We sent you instructions on how to break the spell every month…well after the third month, anyway. Throw them away or burn them.” She gave him that Hermione look.
After a few minutes to make him sweat.
She explained to her ex-old friend, how she had taken a ‘performance enhancing’ charm and reversed it. She mixed it with something she’d developed, that would ensure Ron got an erection as soon as he saw a new girl, any new girl, but would, moments after he entered her, cause it to fail him and!
When she refused to remove it! Ron went instantly raging angry, ‘how could she… to me‘, he thought make her, force her to take care of him, but he just sat there, knowing he could do nothing, Harry or that damn elf would kill him, if he tried. Hermione saw his fist clench, she knew he‘d do nothing.
After a few moments, She did, however, explain the catch.
The catch was this: If Ron continued to use women as he’d done, he would continue to have this particular erectile dysfunction, for as long as it took to learn his lesson. Once he did, the charm would fade.
However She didn’t tell, him it would come back twice as bad if he return to his old abusive ways. And it would take only certain type of women to clear it next time. The whole spell was a mental charm, in fact, several combined and if you didn’t know where or what you’d never find it. She grinned.
Ron was dumb struck “What… but I haven’t… in seven months, I need huh relief…”
“Well get your act together learn how to treat women, find a nice girl and behave”
“How can I huh find one who…”
“Figure it out twit”
“But Hermione I need help, relief… now”
Now the Icing on the cake.
“Oh there is one way to get relief tonight Ronald,”
“You going to help me” he looked hopeful, He smirked inside ‘she wants the Ron-meister, I knew the fairy couldn’t please her’
“Not really. The only way for relief tonight is to have sex with a man,”
“What!!!” If looks could kill, Hermione would have died,
“You have to suck a man’s penis to completion and swallow his load first, then you can shag him, if he wants, but no one else. only the bloke you suck off. Oh, also it One suck one shag…”
Ron lurch at her, Dobby and Harry twitch, he sat back “why?” he demanded.
“You told Me and Ginny and no telling how many others, Harry was gay“, Hermione said.
She gave him the go fuck yourself, you lying sack of… look, every woman has, stored away for the right time
“you lied about Harry”
“I know now you never loved me, you just used me, but more than that, you used me to hurt Harry… “
“A muggleborn is only good for shagging, sound familiar.. Miss Pureblood“.
The expression on Ron’s face was priceless.
Then Hermione said total deadpan, colder than ice, “Now if you need relief, go find a bender, give him a knobber and maybe he’ll let you shag his mouth, bugger him or wank you off. I don‘t care“.
He wanted to strangle her, rip her clothes off the Bitch, beat her to a pulp, but saw Dobby and Winky staring at him, not to mention Harry. ‘If he moved wrong’
Then cheerfully as can be she said, “Now if you’ll excuse us, Miss Ronnie… Harry and I are going to be busy for the next couple hours or so, making Love, wonderful sweet Love. with his beautiful huge HARD COCK giving me orgasm after orgasm as he always does… You… you can suck a dick”
The look of Ron’s face was deliciously delightful to see, he was broke, she done it, she paid him back for Harry’s and her pain. She knew it would take Ron a long time to finally work it out and cure himself, years if ever… Maybe he’ll start seeking for the other team… she really didn’t care.
He just looked at her, cup in hand..
“Now bugger off Roniee… Don’t come back!”.
Taking her husband’s hand and leading him towards the stairs. “Dobby, please show, huh this woofter out, after he finish his tea and please change the wards, he‘s not welcome here anymore”
“Yes Mistress Hermione Potter”
Ron sat there with that tea cup in his hand stupefied, ‘How could she… to ME‘.
He heard slight sounds of love making, getting louder, then Hermione’s screams of pleasure. He looked at Dobby, and Dobby only shrugged “theys at it again”.
Ron set the cup down and Dobby escorted him to the door, “she never sounded like that with me” he mumbled as the door closed behind him.
Dobby smiled.

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Fiction

Halloween Frat Party Nightmare

I am headed to by boyfriend’s Halloween Frat Party with my roommate. She’s going as a slutty cheerleader, while I’m a sexy witch. She seems really eager to go, probably because she’s a slut in real life, but I’m going just to support by boyfriend since he’s setting up this party for his frat.

Diary

Aiden 5

He always looks at me. To bad bad he has a gf, fuck her he is mine!