Pansy wondered if she could come that way. It would be hard, probably, but she wanted to try. “If you don’t make me come, you are going to be sorry, Weasley,” she snarled. Pushing her soaked pussy even harder against her lips, Pansy rolled her hips. She reached down and took a firm grip on Ginny’s hair again for leverage.
“Every night?” Pansy laughed. “You are such a little slag, Weasley.” Truth be told, it really didn’t matter if it was true, it made her practically gush to hear that Ginny had been playing with herself every night thinking about her.
“If you make me come,” Pansy began, her tone already getting breathy, “What do you want for a reward?”