Summersmut Mod (summersmutmod) wrote in hp_summersmut, @ 2009-08-12 00:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009, fic |
[FIC] Sunday in the Park with George, er, Harry :: Harry/Ginny | gift for dianaweasley
Title: Sunday in the Park with George, er, Harry
Author:
Recipient: dianaweasley
Rating NC-17
Featured Character or Pairing(s): Harry/Ginny, guest appearance George/Angelina
Summary: Ginny wants to try something a little different on a warm Sunday.
Warnings: Sexual content, food play, public sex
Word Count: ~5400
Disclaimer: This is a work of adult fiction. All recognizable characters and locations are the property of JK Rowling.
Author's notes: I worked in as many of your kinks as I could. A picnic in the park seemed to be the perfect setting. I hope you enjoy it.
Harry awoke Sunday morning and reached for the other side of the bed, discovering to his disappointment that it was empty.
He cracked an eyelid and saw Ginny slipping on her knickers, her shapely bum wiggling sexily as she settled them on her hips. They were one of her ‘practical’ pairs, which meant she was probably planning on going for a run. But, practical or not, they still emphasized her gorgeous bottom.
Harry watched as she put on a bra, then pulled on a pair of white cotton socks.
She looked over at him and smiled.
“Like what you see?”
“I liked it much better before there was so much covering it,” he said, pouting a little.
“You know I have to keep in shape, Harry, I’m in training. Unlike certain lazy, raven-haired, lay-about wizards I know,” she teased with an almost straight face.
“Come back to bed and I’ll show you how lazy I am!” he dared. “Don’t you know sex is the absolute best exercise ever?”
“Nope. No more bed sex today. I want to shag in the park, over in Hempstead Heath.”
“Ginny!” Harry cried, sitting up and flinging off the covers. “It’s full of Muggles! We might be seen!”
“Umm, I’m a witch and you’re a wizard, remember?”
“You know we’re not supposed to confound Muggles just for the hell of it.”
“It wouldn’t be for the hell of it, it’d be for sex,” she grinned as she put on a very short skirt, making Harry moan.
“You’re running in that?”
“No, I’m putting on sweatpants, but I’ll take them off for our picnic.”
“Picnic?” Harry didn’t recall anything about a picnic on the schedule for today.
“Yes, the picnic we’re having in the park. I’ll need something to eat after my run if I’m going to have the energy to shag you senseless.”
She turned around and wiggled her skirt-covered arse at him, smirking at him as she looked over her shoulder.
Harry whined a bit. Ginny had the most delectable rear end.
Harry hadn’t noticed too much at the time when he first started playing Quidditch at Hogwarts since he was only eleven, but nearly all female Quidditch players have delectable rear ends - round and muscular - that jut out and fill their skirts, causing them drape over their buttocks in the most erotic fashion imaginable.
If the witch was daring enough, and the skirt short enough, and she could swish her hips just right, a lucky wizard could get a quick glimpse of knickers if he was looking at just the right moment.
George and Fred had switched the signs in the Quidditch changing rooms during Harry’s third year, and he had accidentally walked into the girls’ showers. He stopped and gawked as he saw Angelina, Alicia and Katie in all their naked glory under the showers.
Alicia saw him, hissed at her teammates and they all turned their heads over their shoulders and giving him their cheekiest grins, wiggled their sexy derrieres at him. Harry’s mouth had gaped open and his eyes almost fell out of their sockets. He quickly ran out, followed by their giggles and snickers. But, he’d never forgotten their incredibly shapely bodies, especially their thighs and bottoms.
He did start to notice this ‘posterior enhancement’ in his sixth year, especially Ginny’s. Although at the start of the year he still thought of her as Ron’s little sister, his teenage hormones were in full bloom and he simply had started noticing things like that about girls. Cho’s arse was also very round and prominent, making Harry regret (a little, at least) that he hadn’t tried harder to make their relationship work. He’d seen Michael Corner fondling Cho’s bum at least twice as they kissed in a dim corridor.
By the last game of his sixth year, Ginny’s bum had ‘blossomed’- it was about the only term he could think of to apply to it. He even got to fondle it some during their brief, but passionate affair during the Spring of his sixth year.
It was obviously the result of gripping her broom; her thighs had become lean and firm as well, not that he’d actually gotten to see that much of her thighs. He’d certainly gotten to squeeze and stroke them a fair amount, though, but only occasionally under her skirt.
Now, in what was the most wonderful event that ever happened to him, even surpassing surviving the second Avada Kedavra from Voldemort, Ginny was living with him in Grimmauld Place. And not just living with him, but sleeping with him. And not just sleeping with him, but shagging him senseless day and night. And that gorgeous, shapely, incredible body of hers, including her wonderful rear end, was his to do with as he pleased. And it pleased her to have him to shag it until her teeth rattled.
The only fly in the ointment was that she had practice with the Harpies six days a week. It normally wasn’t an issue, but his Auror training was on a month’s vacation and he had hoped that she’d be in bed with him during the day as well as at night, but it was not to be. Quidditch season started in September and August was the month of their most intensive training.
“Aw, come on, Gin,” Harry whined. “When you’re done your run come back here. I’ll shower with you. You know how much you like that.”
“I do,” she agreed, pulling on a tee shirt and walking over to him. She let him gather her into his arms and kissed him sweetly.
“But,” she said, pulling out of his arms, “I want to do something, well, different. Daring. Come on, Harry. You know how much I love shagging you, but I’m getting tired of just doing it in bed.”
“We do it on the couch, the floor, the stairs, the shower, the billiards table, the dining room table...” Harry started.
“Those are all inside! I really want to make love outside. Please?”
She stuck her lower lip out and gave him her best pout.
Harry rolled his eyes, got up, pulled her to him and kissed her tenderly. He groaned a bit as she teasingly circled her hips on his morning wood.
“You win,” he smiled. “Anything in particular you want in the picnic hamper?”
“Oh, something cool to drink, of course,” she said, kissing him back. “Maybe some sausages and buns? Fruit. Something sweet.”
Harry squeezed her cheeks, making her squeak.
“Like something between these buns?” he asked with his best leer.
“Maybe,” she smiled. “We’ll just have to how the spirit moves us, as the Muggles say.”
Ginny had just recently allowed him to take her in back for the first time. She had absolutely adored it!
“You’ll be running your usual path?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” she replied, starting her stretches and drawing another groan from him. She hadn’t put her sweatpants on yet, and she knew perfectly well he was watching her bum under the short, short skirt. It barely covered her crotch.
“There’s that little copse of bushes near the northeast shore of the southernmost pond. How about meeting me there?” she proposed.
Harry thought a moment, then mentally pictured what she was talking about. It might be just private enough for sex. It was far enough from the path that they wouldn’t be seen clearly through the bushes, and the pond was wide enough that people on the other side wouldn’t be able to see them that well, either.
“You could always run with me,” she said as she licked her pink lips and did another stretch that exposed her crotch. Harry groaned again.
“Who would carry the basket?” He did run with her once in a while. After all, he needed to be in good physical shape for Auror training.
“I’m really looking forward to this, Harry,” she said as she slipped her sweatpants on under her skirt. It still fell over the curve of her arse in the most erotic manner.
“You know how much I love you, how much I love our sex together. I’m not complaining about a thing. I...I just want to do something a little daring, a little naughty, a little kinky.”
“I’ll make sure it’s kinky, don’t you worry about that, my little redheaded pervert,” Harry smirked, thinking this might be the chance to try one of his naughtiest fantasies.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, her body shivering just a little as she wondered what he had in mind. Harry was simply more naturally inhibited than she was, but when he did do something really different, she invariably enjoyed it thoroughly.
She kissed him once more, then trotted down the stairs and out of the house. Harry knew she would run to the Heath, but they’d take the Underground back.
Harry went to the loo, washed his face, shaved, then ran a comb through his hopeless hair.
“Well, it’s not hopeless when Ginny’s running her fingers through it when we’re making love,” he thought happily, his groin tightening a little from many lovely memories.
He dressed in jeans and a tee shirt, deciding he could do without any underwear. One less thing to get in the way, he figured, if Ginny was serious about shagging in the park.
He walked down to the kitchen and snapped his fingers.
“Kreacher!”
The ancient, wrinkled elf popped up immediately.
“Good Master Harry Potter wishes something?” Kreacher asked as he bowed. Harry had given up long ago trying to stop all the bowing and ‘good Master’ shite.
“Yes, please. I need a picnic hamper packed with half a dozen Polish sausages, six rolls, a fruit salad, some crisps, a couple eclairs, and a bottle of the Chateau Chapelle D’Ausone, 1970, and two glasses. Oh, and a quart of chocolate ice cream packed in ice. Plus utensils and napkins.”
“I will have it ready in ten minutes, good Master Harry,” Kreacher said. “Picnicking with your pretty Wheezy witch?”
“Yes, I am,” Harry smiled. “We will be home for supper and we’ll probably be hungry.”
Shagging Ginny was his favorite way to work up an appetite.
Harry had discovered when he took possession of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place after the war that the Black family, despite their pureblood prejudices against Muggles, were apparently extremely fond of Muggle French wines, in particular those from Bordeaux and the Rhone. The cellar at Grimmauld Place was staggering; there were vintages from as far back as the 1920s. If Harry hadn’t had his inheritance from his parents and Sirius, he could have gotten just as rich selling off the wine. There were bottles in his cellar that had sold on the collector’s market for several hundred pounds each.
Once Kreacher handed him the hamper, Harry left and walked to the King’s Cross Underground station and rode up to Hempstead Heath. It was still fairly early Sunday morning, so the park wasn’t too crowded yet. He did have to admit that the thought of shagging the most beautiful redhead in the world within yards, maybe mere feet, of dozens of Muggles was really quite exciting. He felt himself getting hard just thinking about it.
He found the copse of bushes and sat down behind them, facing the pond.
“It might just work,” he thought rather happily. “Still, just to be safe...”
He cast a middling Muggle-repelling charm which would serve to keep Muggles from wandering into the bushes behind him. As long as they were sitting or lying down, they wouldn’t be seen, so there was no need for the much more difficult Confundis charm. And, in any case, the Ministry did get its nose out of joint if wizards and witches cast spells for no good reason in areas and venues frequented by Muggles, which Hempstead Heath certainly qualified as. And al fresco sex would definitely not qualify as a ‘good reason.’
There was nothing Harry could really do about the water side of their picnic site; raising a fog or something similar would just draw attention to them. It was a good two hundred feet to the other side in any case. If a boat rowed by, well, they’d just have to hope for the best.
Harry felt himself getting more and more aroused though as he thought about what was coming.
“Me!” he laughed to himself. “Eventually. After I give her a dozen orgasms. Well, alright, at least one or two.”
He sipped on a Coke he had bought from a vendor and stuck a couple bottles of water he’d bought into the ice packed around the ice cream. He’d ‘cook’ the sausages using an Incendio spell. Hopefully not cooking his hand at the same time.
While he waited, Harry let his mind wander back over the past year or so, starting with seeing Ginny for the first time in months after the Battle of Hogwarts was over. They had hugged tightly, even exchanged a sweet, long kiss, but she was in mourning for her brother, Fred, as well as the others who had died, and for the first month or so after the battle, they did little more than hold hands while walking around the pond at the Burrow, just stopping to kiss lightly every once and a while.
As Ginny’s seventeenth birthday approached, they allowed their contact to become closer and more intimate. She would often lie on top of him in the soft grass in the woods, their tongues twisting and twining with each other’s as his hands would fondle her back and bum. If she was wearing a skirt, she was giving him tacit permission to fondle her underneath it, although he was careful not to try to go inside her knickers or let his fingers wander too obviously into the warm, wet space between the top of her thighs.
She would make the most delightful little whimpers when Harry would stroke her there, although he never lingered too long. He was pleased though that the fabric between her legs was always damp, even wet after he had finished.
By the time she had to return to school, they had gone so far as to press their naked bodies together and had given each other their first orgasms from someone’s fingers other than their own.
The night before she left, they had pleased each other with their mouths, Ginny licking her lips and relishing her first taste of Harry’s salty seed.
He had praised her ‘tangy’ flavor, and even though he had tasted it before on his fingers, having it flow directly into his mouth was his most erotic experience to date.
However, they didn’t take the final step; Ginny had said that she simply wasn’t ready for that yet, and Harry didn’t press her.
When she returned for Christmas holiday, though, it was a different story. The day after Boxing Day at the Burrow, she went with him to the newly renovated Grimmauld Place, and as he showed her the master suite she had kissed him deeply and said that she wanted to ‘get used to being in his bed, so they might as well start right now.’
And they did. Four times.
They didn’t return to the Burrow until the next morning, where the expected fireworks erupted.
Her mother had wailed and bemoaned the loss of her ‘baby girl,’ who had chosen to become a ‘scarlet woman.’ Her father, to her mother’s distress, simply told Harry to treat his ‘little girl’ right or he wouldn’t live to regret it.
Her brothers’ reactions varied.
Bill had looked like he was going to say something against it, but Fleur quickly reminded him that any concern he had about a witch’s relationship had better be about her and their unborn child’s. He settled for saying Harry had better treat Ginny right, as George mimicked a whip cracking behind Bill’s back and mouthed the words, ‘Pussy whipped!’
Charlie had complained volubly, making the mistake of threatening Harry and ending up on the receiving end of one of Ginny’s Bat Bogey hexes.
Percy had said that he had no problems at all with their physical relationship. He was much too happy with his own new relationship with Audrey to worry much about his sister. He merely echoed his father’s words to treat his sister properly.
George had slapped Harry’s back, then embarrassed his sister by giving her tight hug, a very unbrotherly kiss, and a swat on her perky rear end. He then proceeded to embarrass everyone else by telling them he was opening a pool at the shop on how soon after she left Hogwarts that she would have Harry’s first child.
Angelina had smacked him on the back of his head and promised Ginny that he’d ‘pay for it in spades’ that night. The hungry gleam in her eyes left no doubt in anyone’s mind what the payment would be.
That left Ron, who was unhappy with the situation, but knew better than to risk Ginny’s wrath - and her Bat Bogey hex. He had simply said that he never wanted to hear a single word about what went on between them. Ever!
Hermione, of course, had squealed with delight and pulled Ginny upstairs to her room and prodded her for ‘all the gooey details!’
She stayed with him every night until she returned to school.
Harry had rented a room at The Three Broomsticks for the February Hogsmeade visit and they spent the afternoon in bed. Ginny was the envy of every witch in the Gryffindor tower that night.
Easter vacation was spent in Harry’s bed as well, although they did dutifully show up for dinner at the Burrow each night.
Once her seventh year was finished, she cleaned out her closet and dresser at the Burrow and moved everything to Grimmauld Place.
Harry was needled and teased by all his fellow Auror trainees, except Ron, of course, who still pretended that nothing was happening.
Ginny’s picture was in several Quidditch magazines, where she was being touted as the ‘best chaser to come out of Hogwarts in a century.’ Angelina took a great deal of umbrage at this, but she and Ginny were the best of friends and in interview after interview Ginny said that she was a team player and only wanted the Harpies to win, regardless of whether she scored a single goal or not.
Their sex over the last six weeks had been incredible. Harry thanked all the gods he knew that he was still a teenager and was able to keep up with Ginny’s near insatiable sexual appetite. They usually shagged three times a day, four and even five times on the weekends.
Harry was pulled from his reverie as Ginny jogged into the copse, smiling widely at him as she began her post-run stretches.
“I’m really looking forward to this, Harry.”
“Me, too,” he agreed. “Here’s some water, I also got you a Coke. And, of course, there’s wine to go with lunch.”
“Yes, I see you’re warming up the sausage there in your jeans,” she giggled, staring at his hard on inside his pants.
“Now, in return for risking exposure and embarrassment, plus possible expulsion from the Auror program, to fulfill your perverted desires, Miss Weasley, there’s a few kinks I’d like to try before there’s any sex.”
He tried to say this in his ‘serious’ voice, but he could never maintain that tone with Ginny.
“I can’t wait!” she squealed.
She pulled off her sweatspants and to Harry’s pleasure, her knickers as well. She then did that trick that all women seem able to do with their brassiere, unhooking it and removing it from inside their shirts without exposing anything.
She sat down, leaned back on her elbows, raised her knees and let them fall apart. Harry gaped and licked his lips at the delectable sight.
There had been one other big surprise only three days after Ginny moved in with him and had started immediately to practice with the Harpies. She came home that evening and hearing Harry in the shower, stripped and joined him, although she had, of course, showered at the stadium before flooing home.
Harry’s hand had fallen to the juncture of her thighs and encountered bare skin, rather than the luxuriant, wiry red bush that he so adored.
“Ginny!”
“It’s much cooler, and much more hygienic, Harry,” she said simply. “I’ll grow it back once I stop playing. Besides, think how much easier it will be to watch that wonderful cock of yours move in and out of me.”
Harry tested her theory out right then and there. Watching his cock disappear into her red curls had been one of his very favorite aspects of their sex, but he readily admitted that a bald snatch had its advantages. For one thing, he swore that it let him go even deeper inside her. Ginny didn’t argue, she merely wrapped her legs around his waist and watched and moaned as he shagged her to three screaming orgasms.
Harry pulled a sausage from the hamper, put it on a bun and cast an Incendio. The sandwich disappeared in a flash, Harry cursing as he blew on his singed hand.
“The ashes look scrumptious,” she snickered.
He growled and repeated the spell, succeeding this time in cooking the sausage and toasting the bun. He repeated it to fix a sausage for himself.
“Mustard? Catsup? Relish?” he asked as he handed the sausage to her..
“Mustard,” she replied, then gasped as Harry forced her down onto her back.
“Harry?”
“Remember? Kink first!”
He dipped a spoon into the mustard, then raised her skirt and dabbed a bit on to each thigh, then onto her naked snatch. Ginny moaned as the spicy concoction tingled in her folds and on her clit. She almost howled as Harry dipped his head between her thighs and licked her clean, spending a great deal of time torturing her now-throbbing bud.
“How about some catsup?” she asked, catching her breath. Harry grinned and repeated the operation with the catsup.
“Can I eat my sausage now?” she pouted prettily, shuddering with delight as his tongue continued swirling between her tingling lips.
“Yes, then you can eat mine!” He unbuttoned his jeans, lowered the zip and pushed them down and off his bum. His penis jutted out - hard, red and ready.
Ginny quickly devoured the sausage - the Polish sausage, that is - as Harry scarfed his down. Then, daubing some mustard and catsup along Harry’s length, she delightedly inhaled his ‘meat,’ swirling her talented tongue around the swollen head, then up and down the throbbing vein on the underside, then kissing and licking the rest of the soft, heated flesh until Harry was ready to explode.
She began bobbing on him and sucking him in earnest, but Harry reluctantly made her stop and sit up again.
“No, I promised you a shag,” he said. “Now, all those spicy toppings have me thirsty. Lie down again, raise your skirt and squeeze your thighs together as tightly as you can.
Ginny did so, leaning on her elbows so she would be able to see just what he had in mind for her. Her thighs, her stomach, her entire body was literally quivering in lustful anticipation. It was even more exciting since they could hear the voices of Muggles walking by not more than fifteen feet away.
“Gods, Harry! Please! Be quick about it! I...I want you! Want you in me!”
“Soon, my impatient nymph, soon,” he teased as he charmed the cork out of the wine bottle. “Now, squeeze them tight.”
Ginny squeezed her thighs as tightly together as she could, then whimpered with delight as Harry poured about half a glass of wine into the depression formed by her thighs and Mons Veneris, covering her naked pudenda with the red liquid.
“It...it...it,” she murmured. “It’s incredible! Oh, fuck, it’s leaking into me!”
“Can’t have that,” Harry grinned, dipping his face into her pussy and eagerly sucking and lapping up the wine. He groaned as he detected her tangy juices imparting their own unique flavors to the vintage claret.
“I want to try Champagne sometime!” he declared as he licked up the last drops sticking to Ginny’s smooth, muscular thighs.
“I’m ready,” she gasped as Harry’s tongue ran up her slit and made lazy circles around her clit. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he inserted one, then two fingers inside her, probing her deeply as his lips surrounded her little mound and his tongue continued its dance on her center.
Harry was so, so good at this, she thought, as her body began coiling with tension. She removed one hand from his hair and shoved her fist into her mouth, stifling her scream when Harry curled his fingers inside her and hit her ‘spot,’ making her come hard, clasping around his probing digits as her sweet juices flowed.
Harry pulled his fingers out, shoving them into her mouth as his tongue quickly left her clit and forced her tight walls apart, lapping up her release.
“Harry, Harry, Harry,” she crooned as she sucked her flavor from his strong fingers.
“Ginny, Ginny, Ginny,” he mumbled into her still pulsing cunt, his tongue swirling around inside it.
They both laid still, catching their breath, Harry on his stomach between Ginny’s legs, as she continued to lay on her back, her small, calloused hands stroking her lover’s face and hair.
“That was amazing, Harry!” she murmured. “As soon as I’ve caught my breath, I’m giving you the shag of your life!”
“Are you sure?” he asked, still slightly concerned about just how private the setting was. “We’ve been lucky so far.”
She grabbed her wand and quickly cast a very limited Muffliato around them.
“I’m sure. Roll over onto your back and let me take charge from here on.”
Harry did as she ordered, his prick standing straight up from his body.
“Hmm,” Ginny smiled. “Don’t want you getting off before I do again. We need to ‘cool your ardor,’ Mr. Potter.”
Harry wondered what she meant, then found out thirty seconds later as she grabbed some crushed ice from around the ice cream container, put it in her mouth and then lowered it onto him.
Harry now bit his fist to keep from screaming. The heat of her mouth had him ready to explode, but the ice kept his body from being able to fulfill his mind’s desire.
She bobbed on him for a minute or two, then got up on her knees and positioned her center above his straining erection. She lifted her skirt enough for him to see her engulf him within the puffy lips at her entrance, and then watch with nearly unbearable delight as she slowly sank down onto him, his cock disappearing inside her slick, tight embrace inch-by-slow-warm-wet-erotic-inch.
Harry groaned as she bottomed out on him, smiling at the one concession she had made to him pouting over shaving herself. She had let a small area on her Mons Veneris, directly above her cleft, grow back and had trimmed and teased it into the shape of a heart.
“You always seem to have a hard on for me,” she had joked. “Now, I have a ‘heart’-on for you!”
One thing her shaving had done was let Harry watch the muscles around her vagina and vulva flex and contract as she rode him. They had, of course, previously been hidden by her pubic hair. Harry decided it was a fair trade. Watching how her muscles reacted when she came was just so amazingly erotic he simply couldn’t put his emotions into words. He had to admit that their sex together had been more erotic than ever since she’d shaved her bush.
“Gods! Fuck! Harry!”
Ginny threw her head back in delight as she moved up and down on him, their connection hidden beneath her skirt. Harry found this incredibly stimulating.
She rode him for several minutes, her breath becoming ragged and her motions faster and harder.
“Almost...almost,” she whined. “Touch me! Please!”
Harry smiled and ran one hand up under her tee shirt, massaging first one, then her other breast, rolling the pebbled peaks of her nipples between his fingers.
He lifted her skirt with the other hand and ran a finger up her slit, rubbing the hard nub of her clit with practiced expertise.
Harry watched her muscles start to spasm, then heard her growl from low in her throat:
“Yes! Fuck! Oh, gods, yes! Harry! Harry! Harreeeee!”
She came, and came hard, bouncing on him as she rippled along his length, making him gasp and push up into her as deeply as he could.
“Ginny! Yes! Oh, fuck, yes!”
Harry came then, pulsing into her as she continued bouncing on him.
“Harry, Harry, Harry,” she murmured, her face glowing with pleasure. “Oh, gods, Harry!”
She leaned over and laid down on him, her hips continuing to gyrate his still-leaking cock.
“Oh, gods,” she cried, kissing him with all her strength. “That was so, so, so fucking good!”
“No argument here!” Harry jibed, kissing her back with fierce intensity.
They laid still, Harry stroking her back as they kissed, her sheath still softly milking his flagging erection.
“Now, aren’t you glad I suggested this?” Harry smirked.
“You suggested it?” Ginny smirked back. “I seem to recall some rather nervous trepidation on your part, Mr. Potter. Something about ‘what if someone sees?’”
“Well, alright,” he conceded with a smile. “I’m just thrilled, delighted, and totally whacked at the moment. Have I told you recently that you’re the best shag in the universe?”
“No, but I appreciate the compliment, especially since it’s coming from the sexiest wizard ever to live!”
“I love you, Harry,” she whispered, kissing him with all the love and tenderness she could muster. “I just can’t imagine my life now without you in it.”
Harry had to hold back his tears and managed to gasp around the lump in his throat:
“You’re the entire world to me, Gin, everything. I can’t begin to tell you how much I love you.”
He then gave her his best smirk.
“Kinks and all!”
“I’ll kink you, just you wait,” she beamed. “I wonder how chocolate would taste on that sausage of yours? I think I’ll find out during dessert!”
They continued to hug and kiss, enjoying the afterglow of their amazing sex as dozens of Muggles walked by completely unaware of what had just occurred hardly fifteen feet away.
In a rowboat about a hundred feet away, George Weasley lowered his Omnioculars and grinned at Angelina.
“You’re a pervert, George Weasley,” she stated categorically. “Watching your own sister get shagged.”
“I didn’t know it was her when we first started peeping at them!” he protested. “Besides, I really didn’t see all that much, not with her wearing her skirt and all. And don’t pretend you didn’t examine Harry’s cock on the highest magnification, wench!”
Angelina gave him her sexiest grin. “Wench, am I? Well, we’ll see about that! Lie down!”
George laid down in the bottom of the boat. Angelina hauled his trousers and pants down and admired his glorious erection.
“That should be adequate,” she teased, lifting her skirt enough so he could admire her own hairless snatch as she slowly worked his length inside her and began to ride him just as his sister had ridden Harry.
“Adequate?” he grinned. “I’ll show you adequate, you cheeky wench.”
“You already are,” she panted as she began to increase her tempo.
“No hurry, luv,” George groaned as Angie surrounded him within her tight, slick warmth. “I rented the boat for the whole day!”