A Big Happy Weasley Family Part 8
Introduction:
This is not my story. It was written by Werewolf Warrior. I’m just sharing it here
A chime sounded just as Harry opened the door to enter Ollivander’s abode. As always, the old wandmaker emerged from the shadows to greet him.
“Ah, Harry Potter,” Ollivander said, “Welcome.”
“Sir,” Harry greeted with a nod of his head. The old man looked as serene as ever – the last time Harry had seen him, Ollivander had endured quite an ordeal trapped in Malfoy Manor to be interrogated by Voldemort – he had been utterly disheveled and frightened.
“I hope you’re doing well, sir,” Harry said.
“Indeed, Harry Potter,” Ollivander replied, “Thanks, in part, to you.”
“I wish I’d gotten there sooner,” Harry said sincerely.
Ollivander waved him off. “You know what they say about being late, Mister Potter,” he said, “Better than never. Spare yourself the worry, Mister Potter – I’m in fine shape for a man my age.”
“Of course,” Harry said.
“So, Mister Potter,” Ollivander said, “What can I do for you today? I do hope that marvelous wand of yours is still in working order.”
Harry pulled out his phoenix feather wand. “Yeah,” he said, “It is. I’m actually here because I needed… uh… do you make holsters? The one I have is an inherited one from the late Mrs Tonks-Lupin. I was just wondering…”
“I do make wand holsters, Mr Potter,” Ollivander said, “I would be a poor wandmaker if I did not. I even make ones laced with charms that are designed to defend against disarming curses and summoning charms.”
“Could I see them?” Harry asked.
Ollivander nodded and waved his wand. A whole set of leather holsters made their way over to the counter from parts unknown. Harry started inspecting them, one after the other.
“Doing a bit of early shopping, Mr Potter?” Ollivander asked him curiously.
“Yeah,” Harry said, “The Hogwarts book lists are out. Figured I’d come here early and do some shopping before the back-to-school crowds start moving in.”
“A wise plan,” Ollivander said with a nod.
“Well, that,” Harry said awkwardly, “And I just wanted to keep away from the… er… media.”
“Ah, the burden of celebrity,” Ollivander said with a humorous edge, “So the Weasleys are not here?”
Harry shook his head, as he inspected a particularly attractive black holster. “No,” he said, “The Weasleys – bless them – are always a wee bit late when it comes to stuff like this. Just thought I’d come in by myself. I go to muggle London quite often – just thought I’d do some shopping on the way back.”
Harry took put the black holster down. After all, he thought, I’m not really here to shop for holsters. He was here to try and determine if Ollivander could help him with his specific problem. But he couldn’t go about asking the wandmaker directly – he had to do it in subtle, roundabout fashion.
“Actually,” Harry said, “Sir, I wanted to ask you about… wands.”
“Ah, wand lore,” Ollivander said, clasping his hands together, “Always a pleasure discussing that fascinating subject with you, Mister Potter. I believe the last time we discussed wands was when you asked me about that fascinating Gregorovitch creation the Dark Lord tried to wield.”
Harry nodded.
“I wonder what happened to that spectacular wand,” Ollivander mused.
“It was Dumbledore’s,” Harry said, “Well, Dumbledore’s wand by way of Grindelwald.”
“Of course,” Ollivander said, “Do you know what became of it?”
“It turned to dust when I… finished… Voldemort,” Harry lied without skipping a beat.
“A pity,” Ollivander said, “I would have paid a fortune to study that wand.”
“Actually,” Harry said, and brandished a second wand in his other hand, “It was this wand I needed to talk to you about.”
“One of mine,” Ollivander said, peering at the stick, “Hawthorne and unicorn core. A wand that once belonged to Draco Malfoy – a fugitive now, of course.”
“I… disarmed him and won it for myself,” Harry said, “When we escaped Malfoy Manor.”
“Ah, of course,” Ollivander rejoined.
“Well, the thing is – I just want to know if the wand can… influence… me in some way,” Harry said in a rush, “I mean… Draco Malfoy was not exactly a… nice wizard. And I don’t want his wand to make me… different.”
Ollivander smiled. “You believe the wand is influencing you, Mr Potter?”
Harry pretended to frown and think. “It might be. I mean, I have behaved a bit terribly while wielding it. And you seemed to think wands have memories, sir… at least you said so the last time we met. So I was just…”
Ollivander interrupted him, “Mr Potter, I never said a wand has memories. I said it has a sense of ownership. A wand lends what allegiance it can to the man who wins it through combat. But it shall never work as well for its conqueror as it does for its owner.”
Harry nodded. “But,” he prompted, “Can a wand influence its… conqueror?”
Ollivander chuckled. “Mr Potter,” he said in an indulgent tone, “A wand does not live. It does not have a mind. No wand that I know of is capable of influence, just as it is not capable of thought. It is a tool – a phenomenal tool that has a peculiar sense of magic and that can channel magic – but a tool nonetheless. It takes great skill to make one, just as it takes great skill to wield one in grand fashion, but I am not vain enough to allege that a mere wand is capable of self-awareness.”
Harry sighed. “Well, sir,” he said, “That’s a relief. I did not want… I just wanted to know that Draco’s wand was not having some sort of weird effect on my mind.”
Ollivander smiled. Harry grinned right back and pocketed both wands. He picked up the black holster, paid for it, thanked the elderly wandmaker and walked out of Ollivanders’.
***
Well, Harry thought morosely as he wandered around Diagon Alley, that was a dead end. Obviously, Ollivander had no idea about how powerful the Elder Wand was – more than ever, Harry was convinced that his wand was one of a kind. The Deathstick had taught him, showed him images – but Harry just intuitively knew it wasn’t living.
Not in the conventional sense of the word “living” in any case. Either way, in some ways, his brief foray into Ollivander’s shop was a success – he had determined the Elder Wand was one of a kind, had bought a new wand holster and had even managed to question the wandmaker without arousing his suspicions. Yet, his problem remained.
Harry needed to know more about how to control the Elder Wand. He supposed there were two ways to go about it now that he knew the foremost expert on wands in England had no idea about the Deathstick – he needed to go to its former master. He had to get in touch with either Dumbledore’s portrait, or someone who knew Dumbledore back when he was alive.
In the meantime, though, Harry supposed he could get some actual shopping done.
***
An hour later
Just as Harry stepped out of Flourish and Blotts, armed with textbooks for his seventh year, a voice drew him out of his reverie.
“Harry!”
He looked around and spotted a tall, dark-skinned girl in a cotton tee and track pants walking straight towards him.
“Angelina,” he greeted with a grin, “What’re you doing wandering around the Alley?”
“I could ask you the same question,” she said, flashing her pearly whites at him. Then she looked down at the text books in his arms. “Going back to Hogwarts, eh?”
Harry nodded and shrunk the books. “Got to complete my education,” he said.
“Pish-posh,” Angelina said mischievously, “The Savior of England needs an education?”
Harry smiled and then shrugged. “Would be nice to go back to school,” he said wistfully, “Seems like a nice break from… what came before.”
Angelina’s smile vanished. “Yeah,” she said seriously, “I suppose it would.”
He started walking alongside Angelina.
“Judging by what McGonagall’s planning though,” Angelina said with a smile, “Doesn’t seem like it’ll be a quiet year.”
Minerva McGonagall, ever since she had become Headmistress, had supervised the rebuilding of Hogwarts. Apparently, the school was now back to its former shape, though it was in desperate need of funds to pay for the rebuilding project. And in order to foot the bill, McGonagall had done some savvy marketing and initiated some really clever proposals.
Apparently, Hogwarts would be hosting a large inter-school tournament of sorts – not quite a Triwizard Tournament, but close. The tournament would also be broadcast on the new WWW invention – the Chart-O-Vision that George was so busy manufacturing these days and that were quickly filling up most wizarding households. The wizarding equivalent of a television was selling like hotcakes – according to George, they would mint millions, and several international entrepreneurs were starting up brand new channels to broadcast on the silver screens.
Harry did think they needed to come up with a new name though – the “WWW Chart-O-Vision” sounded a bit tedious and weird to him. Although, they did look like large silver paper when Harry really thought about it – much more versatile than muggle televisions, in any case. They could be expanded to cover an entire wall, or contracted to fit on a single finger. George reckoned they would soon be able to make it an entirely immersive experience by feeding images directly to the brain, in a manner similar to a Pensieve.
The recording end of the Chart-O-Vision was a bit more complicated and less affordable to the average wizard though. The Recording Orbs – spherical orbs that recorded with one of their hemispheres and stored it in the other hemisphere – were slightly similar to omnioculars in how they worked, but the runes and material involved were far more complicated and intricate. As such, wizarding channels would have to invest far more to buy the orbs – and each orb had to be controlled by a wand-wielding wizard.
McGonagall had allegedly partnered with one of those upcoming channels to broadcast the European Inter-School Tournament of Sorcery. It would involve inter-school quizzes, duels and a round-robin Quidditch tournament. It was a very ambitious project and Harry had to admire McGonagall for coming up with it and following through at such short notice. According to the business sections of the Daily Prophet, it was a canny move – the sponsorships for the tournament would ensure that Hogwarts would be able to pay off all of the debts involved. Moreover, the tournament would improve the tarnished image of British Wizarding Society from the previous war.
So far, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Mahoutokoro – a Japanese wizarding school – and the Salem Witches’ Institute – which, despite its name, taught both boys and girls in the United States – had volunteered to take part in the tournament. Harry supposed that meant Hogwarts would be playing host to quite a few students next year – although McGonagall did say that the students would be using portkeys or Floo, rather than actually staying over like they did for the Triwizard Tournament.
Additionally, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts had instituted an exchange program, wherein any student who chooses to do so can opt for an “exchange year” at the other school. Of course, that had caused Ginny to go absolutely spare when Fleur announced, quite proudly, that Gabrielle would be one of the first exchange students and would be staying at Hogwarts for the next year.
“Yeah,” Harry said, “McGonagall’s really shaking up the entire school.”
“So, Harry,” Angelina said casually, “Want to head over to my place, if you’re done shopping?”
Harry glanced at her for a moment, then asked, “Uh… you don’t stay with George?”
Angelina shook her head. “Well, we’re only dating. Haven’t really decided to take the next big step. He’s busy with the whole Chart-O-Vision launch thing, and I’m busy preparing for my first season at the Holyhead Harpies. I have a nice, cozy place in Guildford.”
“Surrey?” Harry asked curiously.
“Yeah,” Angelina said proudly, “I’m renting it, of course, but it’s a home.”
“I…”
“Relax, Harry,” Angelina said, amused by his hesitation, “I’m not going to eat you up. I’d just like for you to come over is all.”
“Sure,” Harry said. Angelina smiled and then asked, “Side-along apparate?”
“I guess,” Harry said.
Angelina suddenly moved into his personal space and hugged him, pressing her soft breasts right into his chest. Harry felt a familiar squeezing sensation, and they were suddenly in Angelina’s living room in Guildford, Surrey.
***
Harry looked around, noticing the open kitchen, a sturdy wooden dining table and a nice green couch in the cozy little hall. He then noticed Angelina was still hugging him – her dark brown hair, strung into a ponytail, waved around his face and with a start, he realized she was laying soft kisses around his neck. Her hands were sliding all over his back, feeling every cut and curve of his muscles.
“I never realized you were so… fit,” Angelina whispered.
“Uh…” Harry said, completely taken aback.
“Don’t worry, Harry,” the Chaser crooned, “George and I have… an open relationship. And he loves it when I tell him about these little encounters with other men.”
Her hands were now feeling up his rear. She was grinding her own crotch against him – they were roughly the same height – and Harry could feel her toned legs pressed right against his own.
“Uh… Ginny…” Harry tried to protest.
“Cleared it with your girlfriend,” Angelina said naughtily, “Turns out she’s all for you sleeping around.”
Maybe Gabrielle’s right, Harry thought, Maybe Ginny really is trying to bang other women through me.
Not that he was complaining.
“Fine,” he said, his own voice lowering in pitch, “If that’s how you want to play, let’s play.”
***
Angelina loved the feel of Harry’s muscles. She wondered how the scrawny little boy had grown up into such a delicious hunk, but frankly, she did not care. She had been surprised when Fleur Delacour, in a drunk stupor at the Easter after-party at the Burrow, had confessed to banging Harry Potter in front of her husband. Luckily, only Angelina and Audrey had been around when the quarter-veela had confessed. Audrey appeared absolutely scandalized, but Angelina had been intrigued. Despite Audrey’s apparent disgust, Angelina had prodded the blonde and Fleur proclaimed – to Audrey’s discomfort and Angelina’s amusement – that Harry Potter was the “best lover in all of the universe.”
And so, she had been curious. She told George about it – just like she told George about all of her one-night stands (there had been only two for her apart from George – her schedule was packed with training for the Harpies) – and George had been immensely intrigued. Of course, she had heard the jokes about Harry “Hippogriff” Potter from the Quidditch lockers, but had never thought he would ever be within reach. Now that he was, she just could not resist taking the proverbial “Hippogriff” out on a fly.
And much to her surprise, George had been immensely turned on at the notion as well. So he had provided her with a recording orb and made her promise to record the entire session so both of them could “enjoy” it later.
Angelina just hoped Harry Potter lived up to all the hype.
“Fine,” the black-haired man murmured, “If that’s how you want to play, let’s play.”
And she gasped. The air seemed to tingle with unbridled passion as Harry’s hands, which had been hanging limply, sprang into motion. The temperature seemed to rise and Harry started kissing right back. He trailed wet kisses down her neck and she moaned – he was picking all of her sweet spots. She felt one of his hands squeeze her ass. With the other, he held her ponytail in a firm grip and snapped her head back so that she was staring into her mesmerizing green eyes.
So incredibly handsome, she thought.
“Wait,” she panted as he leaned in to kiss her, “George… he wanted me to record this…”
Harry looked at her curiously and murmured, “Ah, so the Weasley family trait rears its head again.”
“What?” she asked, confused.
“Never mind,” he said, his lips millimeters away from hers, “Where’s the orb?”
“On… the… table,” she said haltingly. So difficult to concentrate, she thought, as Harry’s hands kneaded her ass so pleasantly and he kissed across her cheeks and on the edge of her lips.
“Activate,” she gasped and an orb rose right into the air from its previous position on the dining table.
“Oh,” Harry said amused, “You prepared for this little soiree.”
She nodded mutely.
Harry looked curiously at the orb as it hovered around them, glancing away from her in the process. Angelina started laying kisses around his cheek and ear, biting at his lobe playfully. “So,” Harry asked, “How do you control it?”
“Something about magically controlling it with your wand,” Angelina murmured between kisses, “Don’t care. Can never get the damn thing to work straight. Can’t be arsed to hold a wand now. Let it just hover in place and record.”
“Hang on,” Harry said.
Angelina drew her face away from his and looked curiously at him. Their bodies were still flush against each other and Angelina could not stop grinding up against him – there was something about him that was immensely masculine. Like an overpowering sense of power that hung around him.
Harry extended an arm out towards the orb and Angelina watched the muscles bunch up all over his forearm in admiration. She liked a man that kept fit.
And then, she gasped as she felt a burst of power pulse ight out of his bare hand. The orb stopped moving and floated in mid-air.
“Oh,” Harry said idly, “That’s not too bad.”
Angelina gaped. Harry was controlling a magical object with his bare hands, without a wand.
“How… are you doing that?” she asked incredulously.
Harry turned to look at her and grinned. “Don’t worry about it,” he said huskily and Angelina felt herself getting aroused as a well of power seemed to surge up around him. The orb moved closer, hovering right above their heads, “I’ll control the orb. You worry about the fucking.”
And then he kissed her. Angelina felt her toes curl with the strength of his kiss – his tongue brushed against her own tongue and inner cheeks, swiping and licking at all of the right spots, drawing moans from her mouth and she melted in his embrace.
They drew apart and Angelina panted, “Merlin, it’s like your feeding magic into me.”
Harry smirked. “Oh, I’ll be feeding you a lot more than magic this afternoon, love.”
And then they kissed again. Angelina moaned and gasped into his mouth and his tongue seemed to map every inch of her throat. His hands were running all around her back and sides, feeling up her tight stomach, pushing up her breasts and then roaming over her clothed rear.
Eventually, they drew apart again and Angelina could not take it anymore. She dropped down his body, scraping her fingers down his chest and abs. Harry removed his shirt just as Angelina started unbuttoning his pants. She pulled them down with a swift jerk and moved her head to the side as something monstrous sprang up at her.
“Morgana’s tits, Harry,” Angelina said, tilting her face to face his rock-hard erection. It practically filled her vision, and she was just looking at the base. She tried to turn her head around to find the end of the enormous shaft, but it just went on and on. “What the fuck? How the hell do you manage to hide this?”
Harry chuckled.
Angelina waddled back on her knees, keeping her hands on Harry’s muscled thighs for support – they felt like tree trunks under her palms. And then she came face to face with the largest cockhead she had ever seen. It was like someone had tried to make a perfect human penis and had succeeded in making one. With perfectly straight lines and a ramrod-straight shaft ending in a perfect mushroom head with an eager slit at the end, but then the conjurer of the penis had realized it had to be fitted onto a giant and had then cast multiple engorgio spells on it.
It looked ridiculously huge. And it would have looked ludicrous on the Harry Potter that Angelina remembered from before she left Hogwarts – but on the beast of a man standing before her, it looked perfectly appropriate. Only, Angelina could not tell if she herself was intimidated or aroused. Or both, she thought. She cupped his balls – like ostrich eggs in her hands – and pushed up, watching his cock sway in front of her eyes.
“Harry,” she panted, “I’m not… I don’t know if…”
“You won’t know,” he said smoothly, “Unless you try.”
Angelina tentatively reached a tongue out and licked at it. She moaned at the taste. “Men are not supposed to taste this good,” she murmured. She heard Harry chuckle, but she was being perfectly serious – he tasted… she couldn’t quite place the taste. But if she had to use a word – she would use the word – “powerful.” He tasted like pure power, like his entire body tingled with magic.
And Angelina shamelessly started licking away at his massive head, slathering it with her tongue. She slobbered all over the head, then lapped across it, even poking the end of her tongue briefly into his slit. Harry moaned at that and Angelina smiled naughtily.
***
Harry moaned and pulled Angelina closer, even as he moved the orb down so that it was filming them from the side at his waist level. Her eyes crossed as she drew closer to his cock until her amazingly pillowy lips were touching the tip of his cock. And then he let go – he wanted her to make the next move.
Angelina kissed around his hole, still licking tentatively around his head. And her lips slowly widened as she slowly pushed his dome into her mouth. Eventually, when her entire mouth was filled with his crown, she grew bolder and slid him further down her hot, panting mouth until his cock was touching the back of her throat. It felt amazing to him – especially her lips, which had now reached down a quarter of his penis. Angelina had the largest lips of any of the girls that he had been with – and Harry had always heard his Quidditch teammates make jokes about how those lips would feel wrapped around their cocks, but here he was, actually feeling them on his shaft.
And then Angelina pulled back, dragging those delicious lips up his cock until she pulled off with a pop. “How the hell do you fly so fast with this thing weighing you down?” Angelina asked incredulously.
“Size can be deceptive, Angie,” Harry joked.
“Tell me about it,” Angelina said and stuffed his cock in her mouth again. She made an “mmmmf” sound as she tried to push her tongue out from underneath his shaft and her lower lip. Harry groaned. She was gurgling over his cock now. After a few seconds of holding herself down, she pulled off again.
“I can’t stop tasting your cock,” the dark-skinned girl said, “It tastes amazing!”
And then she went down again. Only this time, she didn’t pull off as she started moving up and down, drooling over the part of his cock that she could deep-throat. Her hands moved off his thighs and encircled the lower half of his shaft, rubbing back and forth in rhythm with her head. As she moved down, choking on his cock, her hands moved up away from his midriff, and when she moved up, towards his cockhead, her hands moved down, smacking against his balls.
Her ponytail swung back and forth as Angelina gave him a spectacular blowjob. Harry’s hands were now in her hair, rubbing across her scalp as she tried her level best to deep-throat him.
“So,” Harry asked, “When you said you wouldn’t eat me up… did you know you’d be on your knees, trying to swallow my cock in your living room?”
“MMMF… MMFFF… MMMFFFFF!” was Angelina’s reply. Or Harry thought it was her reply – he didn’t know whether she had even heard him. All he saw in her eyes was confused bliss and her hands were zipping back and forth across his shaft as her mouth moved across the upper half at a slower pace.
Eventually, after several minutes of tasting and salivating over his rod, she pulled off with a loud slurp. His penis dripped with her spit. Angelina panted, “I… hope… that’s enough lubrication.”
Then she lifted his cock up and leaned in to lick his balls. She lapped all over them and then wrapped her mouth in turn upon each, sucking at them so that each ball pulled pleasantly. Harry groaned at the pleasure.
“No wonder you’re a Chaser,” Harry said, “You’re great at working those balls.”
Angelina pulled off, leaving his balls lathered in her spit. “Really, Harry?” she asked, “That’s the line you’re going with?”
Harry shrugged and laughed. And Angelina went right back to covering his testicles with her spit, lapping at it with the flat of her tongue.
After a bit, she leaned back again and started stuffing his cock back into her mouth.
But before she could go back to choking on his meat again, Harry placed his left hand on her head and held her in place so that only his bell-shaped head was in her mouth. He then pushed her hands away off his shaft and held the base of his cock in his own right hand. He then pulled his cock sideways so that his head burst out of her lips off the side of her mouth with a resounding pop. He moaned – he loved the feeling of his head pushing against her right cheek as it sliced out of her oral cavity. Angelina just panted and stared at him.
Harry laughed, slapped the side of her face with his cock drawing out a squeal, and as she opened her mouth to complain, he shoved his crown in again. “MMMFFF!” Angelina said again around his cock, sending heavenly vibrations all over his shaft. Harry sliced his cock out again with a pop.
“Harry!” Angelina whined, only for Harry to shove in his cock again and repeat the maneuver. Over and over, he sliced out of her mouth with amazing pops and she panted and munched on his cock.
“Dammit, Harry!” Angelina panted as he did it for the eighth time, “You’re… tearing… my… mouth!”
Harry laughed and let go of her head. Angelina smiled eagerly and resumed her blowjob, jerking the base of his shaft as she tried to deep-throat him.
And that was when Harry started moving backwards, to the dining table. Angelina, reluctant to let go of his cock, crept forward on her knees, still keeping the fat crown in her mouth and slobbering over it as if he were leading her with his cock buried in her mouth. Just as Harry drew alongside the dining table, he grasped Angelina’s ponytail in his hand and jerked it back, making Angelina draw off his cock and look up at him with a gaping mouth and lust-crazed eyes. He bent down, lifted her and pushed her onto the table effortlessly so that she was laying down on her back facing him. Then, he grabbed her hips and spun her in place so that her legs were facing away from him while her head was right in front of him, only upside down. He grinned at her, grabbed under her arms and pulled her towards him so that her head was off the table while the rest of her body was lain on it.
“Just flinging me around as you please, Potter?” Angelina said, apparently overwhelmed by her helplessness. Harry pulled the recording orb closer so that it hovered over the dining table.
He then lifted his cock and slapped it right on top of Angelina’s face. His balls were now right on her forehead and his shaft lay across her entire face, with his cockhead extending well past her chin.
“Harry!” Angelina squealed, “I can’t see!”
“Do you need to?” Harry asked as he rolled his meat all over her face, covering her face with her own spit that was lathered on his cock. She moaned and extended her tongue out, trying to lick as much of his shaft as she could reach as he rolled his meat all over the place. Then Harry pushed her face down so that it was upside down and hanging off the table with Angelina’s neck bending backwards. Using her mouth as a fuckhole, Harry just stuffed his cock down her trap and Angelina started choking. She grabbed the shaft with both hands and started jacking him off again. Harry took his own hands off and just held her head in place as the dusky woman did all the work.
Even upside down, with her head hanging off a dining table, Angelina was still giving Harry one of the best blowjobs he had ever experienced. She gagged on his shaft as she tried to shove him down her throat – it was a gallant effort by Harry’s standards, but ultimately vain; nonetheless, he did enjoy the feeling of his cock pushing into her tight throat as she choked around it by herself.
“Angelina,” Harry moaned, “You’re a class apart.”
Angelina pulled him out with a mighty effort and said, “Just chasing after this amazing taste, Harry.” And then she stuffed his cock back in with a shlurp.
Harry laughed. “A Chaser joke, Angie?” he taunted, “Tch, tch.”
Eventually, Harry pulled right out as Angelina’s spittle flew all over the place, leaving the black girl panting for more. “Time for the main event, Johnson,” he said as he rotated her hips around again, so that she was now facing him the right way around with her legs on either side of his hips. “Time to return the favor,” Harry said as he pulled off her pants and went down on his knees before her dazed eyes.
***
“Fuck, Potter,” Angelina moaned, “Your tongue feels divine!”
He seemed to be licking all around her cunt and he did this amazing thing where his tongue vibrated whenever it touched her clitoris. It felt exquisite to Angelina – her three past lovers had often told her she had a tiny clitoris and that it was hard to lavish attention upon, but Harry was blowing her past experiences away with his tongue. Dimly, she registered that her recording orb was now right in front of her face. He’s actually multi-tasking, she thought incredulously.
“That’s it!” Angelina moaned as his vibrating tongue made another pass across her bud, making her pussy gush with pleasure, “You’re great at spotting the Snitch, aren’t you?”
Harry slurped at her lower lips and got up with a confused smile. “Uh… are you equating your clit with a… snitch?” he asked.
Angelina hooked her feet around his head and pushed him back into her twat. “Shut up and seek!” she moaned, “Listen to your captain.”
Harry went straight back to those delightful languid licks along her lips with a chuckle.
“That’s it,” Angelina moaned, “Listen to your… uh… LICK your captain!”
And then Harry plunged his tongue right into her pussy and started vibrating his tongue inside. Angelina squirmed and twisted, shuddered and moaned as his tongue impossibly vibrated and licked at the same time, finding all of the right spots.
“CUMMING!” Angelina screamed as her pussy gushed and pumped around his tongue. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her back arched in pleasure. In her haze, she noticed Harry stand up with a raging erection.
***
Angelina was now looking straight at his cock as it hovered right over her abdomen and there was a fair bit of trepidation on her drenched and dazed face.
Harry pulled her closer and swung her right leg over his shoulder; he pushed her other leg onto the table by her thigh. Her right foot now lay right beside his ear and her left leg rested right along the edge of the table so that her wet cunt was gaping at him.
Angelina’s vaginal lips reminded Harry of Fleur – they were invitingly plump and were entirely hairless. The difference was: where Fleur’s vagina was pink superimposed on milky white skin, Angelina’s was crimson, imposed on delicious chocolate skin. Another difference was that where Fleur’s clit was abnormally large, Angelina’s was particularly tiny. However, both quims seemed to have no problems churning out fluids as they quivered in the throes of pleasure.
Harry angled his cock and pushed at her lips, parting them with the tip of his spit-soaked cockhead. Angelina’s pussy was still writhing and squirming at intervals, trying to come down from her orgasm. “Harry”, she moaned and Harry pressed his advantage, pushing his cockhead right into her tight cunt with a shove.
She screamed, “HNNNNNNNNNNNNGGG… BIG!”
Her pussy renewed its shuddering as it coiled and uncoiled around Harry’s head, apparently milking it in amazing fashion as he pushed even further in. Inch by inch, her cunt walls slowly parted as his cock sank further and further into her wet tunnel – her pussy was gushing juices now and Angelina twitched ever so often as Harry slipped further and further in.
And when three quarters of his cock was buried in her wet orifice, Harry slammed in with all his strength, spearing the last quarter in and bashing right into her cervix. Angelina screamed again through gritted teeth. “HNNNNNGGGGGGG!”
Harry held her left leg in place against the table as he pulled out until only his head remained buried in her vagina and slammed straight back in. And then started repeating the motion until a stream of screams was pouring out of Angelina. Her pussy walls were gripping and contracting right around his penis as he slammed in and out – she seemed to be having a never-ending series of orgasms. They seemed to taper out as he kept to a specific rhythm, and then start up again to build to a peak as he changed his rhythm.
“YES!” Angelina screamed as her orgasm seemed to build to another high and he pounded her up and down over the table.
“Better than riding a broom, Angie?” Harry taunted.
“I… GNNNNAAAAH… WISH… BROOMS… HNNNNGGG… FELT THIS GOOD!” Angelina screamed, the last three words rushing out of her mouth as she shuddered on the table, “FEEL… LIKE… I’M… FLYING!”
Harry frowned, pondering Angelina’s words even as he kept thrusting into her like a maniac. Then, after a moment’s thought, a brilliant idea popped into his head – Angelina’s words had reminded him of his own experience with Gabrielle’s avian form.
Harry removed his left hand from around Angelina’s right leg that was slung over his shoulder, pushed at the orb so that its recording half – indicated by a red, blinking dot – was pointed away from him at Angelina’s slutty face – and summoned his wand out of thin air. He waved and pushed downwards with his magic, creating a cushion of air underneath Angelina.
Angelina’s eyes, which were screwed shut in pleasure up to this point, snapped open as she felt her back leave the table. Harry quickly willed his wand to disappear and pulled out of her pussy, drawing a moan from her. Her gaping cunt was still quivering and drooling fluids at a phenomenal rate.
“What… happening?” Angelina asked, utterly confused and trying to formulate a question to voice her doubts through her continuing orgasm.
Harry grabbed Angelina’s legs and rolled her onto her left side so that her left leg lay flat on the cushion of air he had just conjured and her right leg was poised high in the air, perpendicular to her left.
“I just conjured a bed made out of air, Angelina,” Harry said smugly, “Well… more like a bed that feels like it’s made of air, but is actually just a high pressure stream of air pushing up your body and keeping it aloft.”
Angelina just looked completely dazed.
“Er… never mind,” Harry said as he jumped onto the bed of air right behind Angelina so that Harry was on his left side as well, his cock brushing up against Angelina’s cunt, drawing a gasp from her. Harry grabbed his cock with his right hand and angled it up so that it pushed up against Angelina’s pussy once more. Then he pushed in again, parting her tight, wet walls again.
“YES!” Angelina screamed again, eerily echoing the words he had once said to Gabrielle, “FLYING AND FUCKING!”
“Dream come true, huh?” Harry asked lustfully, now holding onto her right thigh with his hand, pushing it up higher against her side as he as he extended his left arm under and around Angelina’s body to palm her tits. Both Harry and Angelina now lay on their left sides, floating in mid-air, with Harry spearing his cock in and out of her twat at a furious pace. He was actually moving his body back and forth across the cushion of air as he lay prone on his side and he loved the fact that there was absolutely no friction as there would be on the ground. Harry imagined doing the same thing on Angelina’s carpeted floor would probably be disastrous for his skin.
It does feel like I’m flying and fucking, Harry thought happily, congratulating himself for this brilliant idea.
“You’re quite flexible, you know,” Harry said in admiration as he continued to drill into the dark-skinned woman; her right leg was now nearly at an angle of 270 degrees to her left, pressing up right against her side as Harry held it in place. He pulled at her nipples with his left hand as her tits bounced in rhythm with his thrusts. His balls were slapping against her gushing twat now with loud, wet smacks, echoing throughout the room. He willed the recording orb to hover in the vicinity of Angelina’s pussy, where his balls were smacking up onto her clit as his cuntjuice-coated shaft slammed in and out of her gushing twat.
After nearly thirty minutes of spearing Angelina in the sideways spooning position (although Harry was doing a lot more than casual spooning – he supposed he’d have to invent a new name for this rapid-fire thrusting in the spooning position), Harry felt his conjured cushion of air growing weaker. Quickly, he pushed up, drilling deep into Angelina as he pulled her into his lap. She squealed as she sat on top of his balls with his meat shoved deep into her cunt.
“What…” she asked stupefied, “Why… have… we… stopped?”
“Don’t like stopping, eh?” Harry asked.
“Don’t wanna… stop… cumming,” Angelina panted.
Harry chuckled and pushed off the cushion, landing softly on the floor with Angelina bent over in front of him with her ass against his abs and his penis deep in her vagina. “Harry!” Angelina squealed as she flailed her arms, looking for support as she fell forwards. Harry gripped her hips tighter and held her impaled on his cock.
“Don’t worry, Captain,” he taunted, “Won’t let you fall.”
“Harry!” Angelina whined, “Legs… weak… can’t… stand.”
Harry just grinned naughtily and thrust forward, making her scream as she stumbled forward, her cunt leaking juices all over his cock.
“Remember what you told me once during training, Angie?” Harry asked, and then said in a sing-song voice, “Even when on your last legs, keep pushing forward – it’s never over till it’s over.”
And then he gave another thrust, pushing her forward another step. Her legs trembled and she screamed, “FUCK… YOU… POTTER!”
“Well,” Harry said, “You kinda are. Fucking me, I mean.”
“AAAAAHHH!” Angelina screamed and flailed again as he gave yet another massive thrust, pushing her one more step. It felt lovely bashing up against her cervix with each mighty shove into her dribbling cunt. Harry was positive that his cock was now probably so lathered with her juices that if he took out his cock and shook it around, he could make it rain pussy juices.
Harry was not thrusting her forwards for no reason at all though – with one more thrust and another associated scream from Angelina, they had finally reached the tall armrest of her couch. Angelina’s hands finally grabbed the armrest and pushed up against it, holding on for dear life.
Harry grinned. He pulled his cock right out of her pussy, drawing a moan from Angelina at the sensation of loss. And then he speared it back in with a titanic thrust. He didn’t think Angelina could scream any louder, but she proved him wrong. Her gritted teeth finally opened up and she screeched her lungs out at the force of his entire cock pulverizing her insides at once.
And Harry repeated the motion mercilessly. Just as he popped his head right out of her slick cunt, she moaned, “Fuck…”
Harry complied and sheathed his cock in one fell swoop, pummeling her insides in one go.
And just as he popped out again, dribbling her juices all over the floor, she moaned, “… your…”
Thrust. Pull. “… naughty…”
Thrust. Pull. “… CAPTAIN!”
Harry grinned, grabbed her ponytail and pulled on it as he thrust in again, snapping her head back. And then he started fucking her, never leaving her cunt this time.
“FUCK!” Angelina screamed over and over as Harry pounded into her like a piston, jiggling her ass and tits at a furious pace. Her vagina was squelching and pumping juices as she stared straight ahead in bliss, his balls were slapping all over her inner thighs as he used her like a blow-up doll, reshaping her insides so they were now moulded to suit only him. She barely managed to hold on to the armrest as Harry used her ponytail as some sort of a leash, snapping her head back and forth as he fucked her more roughly than she’d ever been fucked in her life.
“So, am I throwing the quaffle the right way now, Captain?” Harry taunted.
“QUAFFLE… FUCKING… BIG. HOOP SMALL!” Angelina screamed. Harry burst out laughing at that, speeding up his thrusts into her.
The orb now hovered around her face as Angelina panted and moaned right into it, her breath condensing to mist as it touched the translucent surface of the recorder. Her never-ending orgasm had reached its ultimate peak and her pussy was practically fluttering around Harry’s fat cock, gibbering out juices almost continuously.
Her vision swam and the world burst into color around her – the pleasure was absolutely overwhelming. She reached out a hand behind her and slapped Harry’s arse blindly.
“CUM!” she screamed, “CUM… YOU… BEAST!”
Harry did not oblige her – he just kept thrusting away like a demon. She just knew she had been utterly ruined – poor George wouldn’t even be able to feel her inner walls at this rate with his tiny pecker. They had been permanently disfigured to the shape of Harry’s perfect horsecock.
“BEAST!” she screamed again as her insides felt like they were reduced to jelly. She was melting cum all over his big, fat rod now.
Angelina decided, at that moment, that she’d never miss a chance to fuck herself silly on Harry’s enormous pole again… ever. If she’d known he was this gifted, she’d have fucked him from the moment he stepped into the Quidditch lockers at Hogwarts. Her cunt would have been impaled on that cock all day long – at breakfast in the Great Hall, in the lockers, even up in the air… she’d have done a celebratory loop riding Harry’s fat cock each time they scored a goal, had she only known about this…
“FUCK”, she screamed again – her hands trembled and she lost her grip on the armrest, falling forward with her ass in the air. Her face smushed into the sofa and the armrest was right against her tummy as she leaned against it with her torso on the couch. She was practically on the armrest now.
And Harry was relentless. He pulled her hips up, pulling her legs off the ground in the process and his cock never left her gushing twat. He just kept spearing in and out at a furious pace as he fucked her onto the armrest of her own couch.
She was drooling now, trails of spit falling down her gaping mouth onto the couch, forming a puddle beneath her right cheek. Her pussy was being fucked into pieces as the sofa started shuddering back and forth with the force of Harry’s bestial thrusts.
“Harry,” Angelina pleaded. Her throat was raw and her lungs felt like they were burning. “Please…”
Dimly she registered exactly why Ginny was apparently willing to lend her boyfriend around – he was insatiable. There was no way Ginny was keeping up with him. Hell, she thought, my entire Harpies team couldn’t keep up with this monster.
“Please what?” Harry asked.
“Cum,” Angelina rasped.
Harry started slowing down. His thrusts simmered down until he was merely grinding in and out of her quivering cunt and then, with a pull, he was out of her vagina. She sprayed juices out onto the floor, unloading all of her cum that had been plugged in by his cock.
He then lifted Angelina bodily, flipped her, and laid her onto her couch on her back, so that she was facing him, his enormous cockhead over right above her lips. She could barely move, but she opened her lips in a daze.
Harry was now off to her side as she lay down, so he raised one leg and placed it on the couch, such that he was towering above her face. He then angled his cock down and stuffed his head between her parted lips so that it burst into her mouth.
And the taste she loved returned. Angelina wearily lifted her arms up and curled her fists around his shaft. She tugged and pulled at the enormous rod, willing him to cum… wanting him to cum. Her cunt was still dribbling juices onto her couch, but thankfully, her orgasm was showing signs of tapering off.
Harry thrust in and out ever so slightly, so that his head moved back and forth in her mouth as she jacked him off to the best of her ability. She licked all over every part of his dome she could reach. Fuck Ginny, she thought, I’m going to choke myself silly on this tasty meat every time I see it now. Even if it has to be in front of the little redhead.
And then Harry grunted and his penis recoiled as it spurted what seemed to be an entire mouthful of semen into her mouth. Angelina gagged, despite what she thought was a delicious tangy taste – causing it to spill out of her mouth and all over her face. She tried to swallow desperately as Harry shot a second burst and then a third…
And it seemed to go on and on. Angelina actually had to raise her head from its prone position on the couch to try and swallow it, but it still dribbled down her neck and onto her breasts. She pulled his penis out of her mouth and it continued to shoot semen all over her face, eyes, hair, neck and even onto the couch.
“You’re… fucking painting the place,” she rasped out incredulously.
Thankfully, after what seemed like an entire minute or so, Harry stopped spurting out his cum. Angelina, who was still holding onto his penis, pushed it down to her mouth again and licked the remaining cum off his glistening shaft.
Then, she collapsed back into the puddle of her own spit and Harry’s cum and went straight to sleep with a smile on her face.
He does live up to all the hype, she thought as her mind faded, best night of my life.
***
Harry smiled at Angelina. That had been incredible. He cast a few Scourgify spells to clean up the place, then made absolutely sure that the orb hadn’t recorded his conjuring of the air-bed and had faced in the other direction as he pulled out the Elder Wand. He didn’t care if the Weasleys saw how powerful he was – he just cared that they did not spot how he was exercising that power.
Then, he conjured a blanket over the sleeping Angelina, dressed up and apparated straight out of her flat.
