NOVEL NEXT Chapter 5: Hermione & Luna
For all that Zatanna Zatara had come into his life effectively proclaiming doom and declaring the closest woman to his heart the Devil, nothing had actually happened yet as a result of their meeting, besides the subsequent intense coupling. Harry just wasn’t willing to go off half-cocked, especially when it concerned the beautiful young woman he’d spent so much time healing and bringing back to life. Especially when said young woman had gone on to save him and deal with his biggest problem in the form of slaughtering Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
That wasn’t to say Harry dismissed Zatanna out of hand, of course, but at the same time, he just wasn’t ready to let her swoop him away into some sort of witness protection or something so he could join the Justice League as her apprentice as she’d initially planned. Luckily, the drop dead sex bomb of an American Witch was quite understanding about his choice.
After they’d said their final ‘goodbyes’ (and trust him, there wasn’t a lot of speaking of any kind during that), she’d left him to return to the Justice League. But not without promising that she would find some way for him to even the odds if it came down to a fight between Harry and his alien lover. And in turn, Harry had promised to seriously reconsider whether Tea was a good influence on his life or not. He… he was pretty sure he felt some form of love for the knockout blonde bombshell. He didn’t want to betray her or see her in pain.
But if she was really as much of a problem as Zatanna claimed she was, Harry wasn’t sure what could be done. It was a rough situation all around… but thankfully, he didn’t have to think about it for tonight at least. Tonight… tonight was about Bill and Fleur and nobody else.
Originally, Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour were actually to be married the day after Voldemort’s attempted coup at the Ministry. Harry and Galatea’s disruption and ultimate destruction of the Dark Lord and his Forces had caused a bit of an uproar that had ultimately led to the event being postponed. The celebrations that had taken place in the days following Voldemort’s incredibly ignoble defeat had been… quite taxing on everyone involved, for all that they’d all loved exhausting themselves and getting blackout drunk in their excitement and revelry.
Regardless, one thing after another had kept seeing the date of the wedding postponed for whatever reason. Harry could understand why, really. It was supposed to be Bill and Fleur’s special day. Having their wedding anniversary overshadowed by the period of time directly after Voldemort’s Second Fall probably wasn’t something either of them wanted.
Of course, that way of thinking would ultimately lead to being entirely locked in place, because there was always some event or such taking place that would inevitably coincide with the date, year after year. You couldn’t fight the inevitable forever. Still, they’d waited long enough and now they were waiting no longer.
Obviously, Harry had brought Galatea along as his date. For much of the Wizarding World, it was their first time seeing the gorgeous alien blonde in the flesh. She, of course, was being quite haughty and arrogant, basking in her superiority as more than a few looks were sent their way. Privately, Harry had to admit she had every reason to be haughty. The dress she’d chosen to wear was incredibly finely made, and absolutely beautiful.
… It was a bit gauche however, that she’d chosen to wear white to another woman’s wedding. Even Harry knew that that usually wasn’t the ‘Done Thing’ at these sorts of events. When he’d brought it up however, Tea had just stared at him blankly before declaring that ‘white was her color’. And that was the end of it.
She’d gotten no end of looks for the choice so far, the worst of which had come from women like Molly Weasley and Apolline Delacour. The mothers of the Groom and Bride had looked quite put out by Galatea’s fashion choice. In all fairness, he didn’t think she was doing it to snub Fleur on purpose. He fully believed she just didn’t care one way or the other.
Even still, it was a warning sign, wasn’t it? But no, Harry had already told himself he was going to lay off on that for tonight. He’d already spent enough of the past few days since his extended encounter with Zatanna Zatara questioning everything there was between him and Tea. Tonight was supposed to be about Bill and Fleur and celebrating their union, nothing more.
The wedding ceremony had, at least, gone off without a hitch. No one had raised any objections, and Tea had even been… mostly on her best behavior. There was the fact that she’d reached over and given him a handjob at one point, but luckily Hermione was on his other side and able to hide their activities from view. Also, luckily, they weren’t seated in the front row.
It had originally been intended for them to be, but then he’d brought a total stranger along, and said stranger had worn white. So, they’d ended up in the second row at the last second, which wasn’t too much of a problem given the absurd size of the Weasley Family, and the sheer amount of cousins that the part-veela Delacours had invited along.
In the end, it had been him and Tea, along with Hermione and Ron. And Harry was honestly glad that Galatea had been focused on toying with him as she’d jerked him off throughout the ceremony, because frankly, it kept her from going at Hermione too early, at least. Not that the brunette bookworm’s reprieve had ultimately lasted all that long…
As he and Galatea make their way into the reception, Hermione and Ron follow along behind them, with Hermione on Ron’s arm. Harry was pretty sure that Ron had no idea he was ultimately lending their best friend to the red head for the night, mostly out of pity. The red headed boy certainly had no idea of the incredibly unequal relationship that had developed between Harry and Hermione. If he had known, Ron would likely have never asked Hermione to be his date. If he had known, he probably wouldn’t be spending most of his time sneaking glances at Tea instead right now.
If he HAD known, Ron might have suspected something was up with Hermione’s already slightly feverish complexion. Harry, meanwhile, was left wondering just how long the poor brunette would last tonight. Because, of all the people here, Harry was one of three people who knew what was hidden beneath Hermione’s sexy knee-length red dress. The number of vibrators that Tea had packed into the submissive witch’s lower holes before they’d departed to this event had been… excessive, in Harry’s opinion.
The remote that he’d seen Tea palming this entire time was even more so, honestly. It was abundantly obvious that Galatea had been playing with Hermione all the way here from the actual wedding ceremony, toying and teasing with their pet while Hermione clung to Ron’s arm sometimes hard enough to make the red head hiss and ask her to let up with a frown.
The only reason Ron hadn’t truly noticed something was up with his date so far, was undeniably Galatea. The Argoan may not have a Veela Allure, but she didn’t need one. Like most of the men and some of the women at the wedding reception, Ron was unable to keep his eyes off of her scantily clad body, even as she hung off of Harry’s arm.
Tea really did like to show off, didn’t she? Ah, damn it he was doing it again. He was assessing her decision making and evaluating her choices through the lens that Zatanna Zatara wanted him to. Fuck, he knew he’d promised to at least consider the American Witch’s words, but this wasn’t supposed to be that kind of night. He had to stop looking at every last thing Tea did like she was out to get him or anything.
After all, of everyone here, Harry knew he was likely safest from Tea’s wrath. Perhaps not if she found out about his rendezvous with Zatara, but if she knew about that, she would have done something by this point. She didn’t know, and that meant everything was perfectly fine between the two of them. Certainly, she was enjoying rubbing herself against him, her breasts squishing into his arm, even as she hides the remote she’s using to toy with Hermione between their bodies.
At least Ron’s jealousy was helpful for once. Harry really didn’t want Hermione to end up exposed for the naughty slut she was here at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. That would be… it would be more than he wanted to happen, he guessed. If Hermione hadn’t been happy to submit and give in to Galatea’s demands, if he’d sensed even one iota of trepidation or nervousness from the brunette witch when her Mistress had been stuffing her holes, maybe he would have put a stop to it.
But she was enjoying herself, for all that the situation was immensely humiliating for her and had the potential to become intensely embarrassing. That was the kind of woman Hermione was. He knew her first loyalty to him… but she’d also come to enjoy being Tea’s pet too. She liked calling the other woman her Mistress, and she liked obeying Galatea’s commands, no matter how embarrassing they might end up turning out. So, Harry would leave them be.
“Oooh, music~ Let’s dance, Harry!”
Chuckling, Harry lets Tea pull him towards the dance floor, a light smile spreading across his face. However, it turns into a wince a moment later when he hears Ron’s gruff voice behind them.
“Yeah, Mione. Let’s dance.”
It’s obvious within minutes of the four of them getting on the dance floor that Ron is trying to stay close so he can keep staring at Harry’s date. If Harry were more insecure, he’d probably be highly incensed at his supposed best friend’s interest at this point. As it was, the fact that he was not only sleeping with Ron’s date but that she also called him Master offset any such feelings, really. Ron didn’t have a chance with Tea. Let him look, right?
Though perhaps Harry should be upset on Hermione’s behalf as well. Ron was ignoring his own date in favor of Harry’s. Would the jealous red head have done so back in Fourth Year as well, if the two of them hadn’t taken a pair of Indian Twins to the Yule Ball? Shaking his head ever so slightly, Harry lets out the lightest sigh at Ron’s antics, really not knowing what to do with him. He was supposed to be Harry’s best friend. Harry just wished the other boy would act like it a bit more.
Of course, Galatea is nothing if not an opportunist. Every time they get close to Ron and Hermione, Harry hears Hermione doing her best to stifle and muffle her moans as she has to put more and more of her weight on an irritated and fortunately distracted Ron. The Argoan is continuing to toy with and tease Hermione with the sexual instruments that the brunette allowed her to put inside of her.
Harry has to admit, he’s getting increasingly worried for Hermione despite himself as this goes on. How much longer would the brunette be able to keep her feet under her before she collapsed in front of everyone in a puddle of her own juices? How much longer could Ron remain so oblivious as to not realize the very real distress his supposed date was currently in? Especially when she was pressing right up against him?!
Well, probably never on that last part. If Ron couldn’t tell now that something was up with Hermione, if he couldn’t SEE the state she was in when she was literally using him to hold herself up, Harry doubted he would ever. It was kind of funny, watching the young man who’d gotten so jealous of Krum back in Fourth Year, completely ignoring the supposed object of his infatuation now.
But then, Harry had never quite understood the dynamic that his two friends had. Sometimes, it seemed like Ron just saw himself and Hermione as inevitable, or something. Like they would get together no matter what, regardless of how he treated her or what she herself wanted. Unfortunately, Harry’s best friend was in for a nasty surprise. At some point, Ron was probably going to try to make things serious with Hermione, and she would have to reject him. A date to a wedding was one thing. A relationship was another entirely.
… Man, Hermione really wasn’t looking good at this point. He glances over at Tea, frowning a little at the sadistic glee he sees the gorgeous clad-in-white blonde barely hiding on her face. She’s looking at Hermione rather than him, staring at the brunette with an eagerness to her that makes it clear she’s enjoying tormenting their mutual pet.
Just as Harry was starting to wonder if he should intervene, the song they were currently on, their third since they stepped out onto the dance floor, comes to an end. As it does so, Galatea gravitates over to Ron and Hermione once more, and Harry opens his mouth to say something, almost reaching out to stop her from doing something regrettable, only to fall silent as she speaks up.
“Hey! Why don’t we switch it up for a song?”
It takes Ron a moment to realize Galatea is actually addressing him, which is fair given the blonde hasn’t given him the time of day since they met up with the red head before the wedding. She’d literally not said a word to him, or so much as acknowledged his existence so far. It’d been a little awkward, truth be told. It takes him another moment to parse her words and understand what she’s offering. Once he’s done so, it takes Ron absolutely no time at all to practically throw Hermione at Harry for a chance to get his grubby little mitts on Harry’s girl.
… Once again, Harry would probably be more concerned and more incensed under different circumstances. And he probably SHOULD be angry on Hermione’s behalf, but there really doesn’t seem to be a point. As it is, even as Ron tries to settle his hands on Galatea’s body and the extremely strong blonde alien easily corrects Ron’s hand placement quite pointedly, Harry doesn’t feel remotely threatened. He’s more concerned about Hermione, truth be told, because from the way the brunette is moaning into his neck and writhing against him, he suspects Tea left all of the vibrators on max and then decided to conveniently forget to lower them again when they traded partners.
He doesn’t just suspect this actually, he knows it, because as they begin to dance around the dance floor to the newest song, the vibrators have become so incessant and so loud that Harry can HEAR them. Luckily, he’s pretty sure he’s the only one who should be able to hear them, but all the same, it’s rather nonstop. As Hermione clings to him for support, her face hidden by her hair and her head buried in the crook of his neck, they attract more than a few glances.
That would worry Harry, but he’s gotten better at reading people, thanks to Tea. A lot of people are looking their way, but there’s no disgust or second-handed embarrassment on their faces. At least, not in the way one would expect. Instead, there’s a whole lot of pity and some minor jealousy tossed Hermione’s face. Harry may not be a Legimens, but that doesn’t stop him from being able to practically read their minds by their expressions, funnily enough.
Of course, there were some witches who weren’t looking at Hermione with pity. They were looking at her with jealousy. Harry felt like he could tell what they were all thinking just as easily, to be honest. A direct byproduct of the repeated and much needed boosts to his ego over the past several weeks.
Lucky bitch, getting to be that close to the Man-Who-Won.
They longed to be with him, those witches. It was still a little hard for him to accept, but it grew easier and easier with each passing day. He was a National Hero at this point, not just the Boy-Who-Lived anymore, but the Man-Who-Won. The Wizarding World really did love their hyphenated titles, didn’t they?
It may have taken a long time and a lot of sex, but Harry could readily recognize now that he was more than a bit of a catch at this point. Just as he knew what no one else except for maybe Galatea knew about the brunette he was currently supporting in his arms. Hermione wasn’t thinking about Ron. Hermione likely hadn’t even paid Ron a single thought despite being his date tonight.
The reason she was clinging so close to Harry was to hide the steadily growing wet spot that had formed at the front of her dress, which was now clinging to her vibrator-stuffed pussy. Harry knew this, because he was the only one in a position to glance down and see Hermione’s face. Had anyone else been able to look upon her features, they would have seen the blank, vacant, altogether slutty gaze of a whore that was just plain drunk on her arousal.
Her tongue was even licking languidly against his neck as she hid it behind a fail of her hair. Her body, which was likely thought by many of the reception goers to be shaking in anguish, was actually in the process of her third explosive, wracking orgasm of the night as her gleaming, translucent pussy juices ran freely down the inside of her thighs. His submissive, horny, needy little slut… Harry couldn’t help but look down at Hermione rather fondly, as the latest song came to a close.
At the same time, he could tell Hermione wouldn’t survive another orgasm, and it was obvious that Galatea had no intentions of turning the intensity of the vibrators stuffed into Hermione’s orifices back down to something more reasonable. That all said, Harry tries his best to steer them both off the dance floor and away from the party a little bit.
In the end, they hang around the edges of the wedding reception just long enough for people to stop paying them much attention. It takes a little while longer than he’d have liked, mostly because of who he is and his fame, but after a while, most people turn away, thinking that they’re watching a crying Hermione get comforted by her best friend, rather than what’s really going on.
Once there’s less attention on them, Harry drags an increasingly limp and noodle-like Hermione out into the woods on the outskirts of the party, knowing exactly what she needed at this point… and honestly?
After that incredibly lewd display back there, Harry was more than happy to give it to her, his cock already straining quite aggressively against the crotch of his pants.
-x-X-x-
Hermione moans, and Harry groans.
“Fuuuck ‘Mione, you’re such a needy, horny little SLUT.”
Bent over, pressed up against a tree, Hermione grinds back on her Master’s bulge, on Harry’s bulge with her ass, even as she looks back over her shoulder at him, her face as red as her dress.
“Y-Yes! B-But only for you Master. ALWAYS for you.”
The declaration is made even as Harry acknowledges the sheer lack of intelligent thought in the brunette submissive’s eyes. Instead of her usual glittering brilliance, there’s nothing but broken lust clouding her gaze over. She wants it. She wants his cock… and Harry wants nothing more than to give it to her, truly he does. His member is already rock hard, has been since before they left the dance floor, and there’s nothing he desires more than to stuff one of Hermione’s holes full of his cock.
But… he really hadn’t planned for shit to turn out like this. It was SUPPOSED to be Bill and Fleur’s big day, damn it! He had not come to this wedding with any intention of wandering off to fuck his submissive sex slave in the woods while everyone else made merry. And yet, here he was. But then, while he may not have come to this wedding with those intentions… it was becoming increasingly obvious that Tea had.
This was her plan all along, wasn’t it? He only wondered where she was, why she hadn’t yet made her excuses and dumped Ron to come join them. Perhaps she figured it would be better to string Ron along a little while longer before ghosting him. It was a little disturbing how easy it felt to slip into Galatea’s frame of mind.
It was also incredibly obvious that she’d manipulated them into this. Manipulated him. Just how many times had she manipulated him up to this point? Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, Harry can see multiple instances now. He hates to admit it, hates to acknowledge it, but it’s the truth. Galatea has been pushing him into situations like this ever since they got Hermione on board. And then Cheetah… of course, his threesome with Madam Rosmerta and Zatanna Zatara was completely free of Tea’s influence… presumably.
And yet… and yet, Harry just isn’t the kind of man to deny himself this sort of thing. Not when a horny, needy bookworm of a witch is currently grinding all over his cock right in front of him, making it abundantly obvious that she wants his dick deep, DEEP inside of her cunt. Or maybe not even her cunt, maybe in her ass.
“P-Please fuck me. Please Master Harry, fuck my slutty body. I want it, I want it, I want it!”
Hermione’s chanting is growing louder, and Harry is both reaching the end of his admittedly limited self-control, as well as growing concerned that she’ll be heard by those still at the reception. With a loud growl, the young man reaches down and finally frees his cock from the confines of his pants, whipping it out and slapping it down on Hermione’s covered fat ass in a way that causes her to immediately shut up, her breath hitching and her eyes gazing back at him vacantly, filled with earnest and honest need as she awaits his cock.
In for a penny, in for a pound. Harry doesn’t bother with any other preparations. He can’t be arsed at this point. Instead, he grabs Hermione by her hips and lifts her off the ground entirely, pulling her up into the air, with his hands ultimately coming to rest under her thighs as he holds her spread eagle in such a way that her dress hikes up and gets the fuck out of his way.
At this point, Harry is perhaps a little haphazard in his upward thrust as he drives Hermione Granger down onto his cock like the slutty, submissive witch both desires and deserves. He could care less which hole he takes, and as such, when his cock slams right up into Hermione’s ass, filling her back door, he doesn’t bother to switch.
Hermione, luckily, still has just enough presence of mind to reach up and clap a hand over her mouth just as an ungodly shriek is leaving her throat. Her eyes roll back in her head and she spasms and shakes upon his cock as he fucks her up against the tree, pinning her between the bark and his big fat cock dicking her up the ass.
His intrusion and lack of care about the sex toys beforehand cause the vibrating anal beads that Tea had stuffed up Mione’s ass before the wedding to push in even further, and Harry can’t help but enjoy how they feel, vibrating against his cockhead every time he thrusts in. Her entire ass is vibrating, to be fair, especially given the toys still stuck up her cunt as well. Through the thin walls that separate her vaginal passage from anal, Harry can feel the maxed out vibrators going to town on Hermione… and now him as well.
Squealing and shrieking, moaning and whimpering, Hermione hugs and clings to the tree in front of her, ultimately dry humping it as he fucks her from behind. Though, there’s nothing dry about the needy, horny witch at this point. The rough bark that’s scraping against her clit through her soaked, soiled dress is making her masochistic side go wild, and honestly, Harry can’t get enough of how her nonstop orgasming makes the butt-fucking he’s currently indulging in all the more pleasurable.
Grunting, panting heavily, Harry nevertheless finds the time to call Hermione out as he fucks her, his words ghosting across her ear as he groans them one by one.
“F-Fuck… Tea was right to put you, hah, in that dress Hermione. It, mm, reflects your personality quite well. You’re such a, hnngh, fucking scarlet woman, aren’t you?”
Hermione’s answer comes loud and high pitched, making it abundantly clear that she’s stopped caring who might hear them in the woods as she cums repeatedly around his cock.
“Y-Yes! Yes, Master! I’m a scarlet woman! I’m a slut! I’m a wanton whore! Fuck me, Master! Use your bitch as the cum rag she is!”
Damn, she was really going all out. Harry couldn’t do any less, now could he. Growling, he reaches up and grabs Hermione by her hair, fisting it in his hand and yanking her head back in time with his thrusts into her ass. His first release is fast approaching, and he just KNOWS it’s going to be a spectacular one.
Sure enough, when his release finally arrives, Harry cums HARD, pumping a hot, thick load of his creamy white seed right into Hermione’s already overstuffed bowels. But even as he’s coming down from that orgasm… it’s not enough. He blames Tea, really, though not in the serious unfun way. He blames Tea mostly in the joking, amused way. But it’s nevertheless her fault. She’s awakened his libido, and for a teenage boy, Harry was dramatically under sexed. His libido is happily and hastily making up for lost time, and now that he’s got a fucking harem of bitches that he’s fucking on the regular, his stamina is increasingly steadily to match.
This is all to say, one simple ass fuck just won’t be enough to calm him down anymore. Not after all the teasing that Hermione has done. Even now, his cock is still fully erect and throbbingly hard in Hermione’s ass. And Harry finds he’s okay with that, because he’s not done yet. Not by far.
“Hope you’re ready for Round Two, pet. Because we’re just getting started.”
Hermione just moans brokenly in response. Whether or not she’s even capable of speech anymore, they both know she would never deny him, even if she could. She’s his bitch, through and through, his good little pet slut. With that in mind, and a wicked grin on his face, Harry picks up the pace again, still not bothering to change holes. He’ll get around to Mione’s cunt later. For now, he continues to fuck her ass.
-x-X-x-
Harry can’t say how long they’ve been fucking again when Tea finally shows up. He knows its still Round Two however, because he has yet to reach his second orgasm. Hermione, meanwhile, hasn’t stopped cumming this entire time. Regardless, as he keeps plowing his brunette slave’s stuffed ass, Harry sees a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, slipping past him and under both him and Hermione. A moment later, he feels a tongue lathering along the length of his cock as well as Hermione’s taint, eagerly licking up the messy amount of cum leaking out of her overstuffed ass and mixing with Hermione’s pussy juices.
It’s a bit more debasement then Harry would have expected Tea to engage in, truth be told. She was such a haughty, superior woman in all the ways that mattered. She could be downright nasty, sure, but only in a way that left her superior, at least to Hermione. This was almost… degrading. But Harry doesn’t spend time dwelling on it. He’s fucking his sexy little pet fuck toy’s ass as she moans and writhes against a tree, and his alien lover has come in and decided to lend her tongue and mouth to the cause.
Seeing absolutely nothing wrong with this state of affairs, Harry doesn’t stop his fucking until he’s just about to explode again. He keeps on plowing Hermione’s poor, abused ass until he feels his load approaching, his release becoming more and more inevitable with each passing moment. Only right as he hits the point of no return does he pops his cock out of Hermione’s ass and proceed to spray his load all over the blonde beneath the two of them.
He hears feminine moaning and an open-mouthed ‘ahhh’ sound, and then as he finishes delivering the thick creamy payload, he feels a tongue swirl around his dick tip for a moment before withdrawing. Only then does Harry pull back, stepping back with Hermione still held aloft in his grasp spread-eagle. Except, when he looks down over his pet’s shoulder, it’s not to meet the bright blue eyes he’s expecting, but pale silver.
Rather than Galatea staring up at him covered in his seed, it’s Luna Lovegood’s cumstained face staring up at him owlishly as she sits back on her ass… in full strike zone as Harry’s cock flops free of Hermione’s ass just in time for her unclogged back door to shower Luna in even more white seed from Harry’s first deposit, staining her hair and dress quite thoroughly.
With Harry’s thick fat cock having loosened and stretched Hermione’s ass to gaping after two straight anal plowings back to back, half of the four anal beads come slurping out of the delirious, insensate bookworm’s back door along with his load. Reaching out for them, Luna picks them up and holds them aloft, even as she looks Harry in the eye.
“Thank you, Harry. I noticed that Hermione was struggling with a dastardly case of volvebaturs at the reception, but I confess, I wasn’t entirely sure how to help her. Whenever I asked my daddy how to deal with such creatures, he always said that it could wait until I was older. Clearly, he was incorrect.”
And then, while Harry is still staring down at her incomprehensibly, Luna lifts the two anal beads up and proceeds to plop them in her mouth, one after the other. She sucks and slurps and makes a big show of it, though Harry honestly can’t tell if she means to or not. When she eventually pops them out by their wires though, they’re very clearly sucked clean… and even if Luna didn’t mean for it to be a sexual act… well, that just makes it all the more arousing to witness, if that’s the case. Harry is rapidly becoming rock hard again.
Luna only has eyes for Hermione at the moment, however. Looking up at the shaking, shivering brunette, she proceeds to reach out… and stick her entire hand up Hermione’s gaping ass. When she comes out with the other half of the four anal beads after a moment of searching, Harry honestly isn’t even really surprised. Hermione, who was still half-holding onto the tree for dear life and half-holding onto him, can only moan out in response.
It sounds almost like the brunette bookworm is trying to dissuade her, but Luna either doesn’t listen or doesn’t hear Hermione. Instead, Hermione is soon going cross-eyed all over again as the undeniably quirky, incomprehensible blonde’s tongue slides up into Hermione, muff diving like a damn pro. Within moments, Hermione is creaming herself again, and squealing as she squirts HARD all over Luna’s already stained face. In fact, if anything, Hermione’s clear pussy juices manage to clean off some of Harry’s thick creamy cum and reveal more of Luna’s owlish expression, even as she ends up pulling the vibrators in Hermione’s twat out with her teeth.
Luna pulls back, and Harry finally lets go of Hermione, effectively dropping her, though she still has her tree to support her. Harry doesn’t actually bother making sure though, he’s too busy staring at Luna, as the crazy girl stares right back at him. With the wires of Hermione’s vibrators visibly dangling from her mouth, Luna’s tongue dexterously works around them, clearly and visibly cleaning them off.
… He’s not sure he’s ever been so damn hard, truth be told. Luna… Luna Lovegood has always been a mystery wrapped in an enigma for him. Of course, Harry had tried to include her anyways, after they’d met in his Fifth Year. She was a strange girl, there was no denying that, but she wasn’t a bad person. And those who had hurt her and abused her and bullied her for her entire time at Hogwarts, just because she was different… they could go hang, for all Harry cared.
Even if he didn’t understand her, even if their relationship was only about two-ish years old at this point, Harry still considered Luna to be one of his friends. But this… this was quite different. This was… he didn’t know what this was, and frankly, he was struggling to decide how to respond. Or rather, he knew how he wanted to respond, but wasn’t sure that he should.
Luna effectively takes the choice out of his hands. Or at least, that’s what Harry will say later, to excuse what happens next. Hiking up her dress, the quirky, cute blonde splays her legs apart as she sits there on the ground, revealing her clean shaven snatch and nothing else. She’s not wearing panties; she was never wearing panties. Part of Harry imagined that really wasn’t meant to be a sex thing, but just a Luna thing. It was a part of him that was rapidly being silenced, especially as Luna proceeded to use her fingers to spread her tight, puffy pussy lips apart for him to see.
“I’m fairly certain you have some volvebaturs irritating your penis as well, Harry. Since you probably got them while helping cure Hermione… I’d be happy to help you cure yourself now.”
Whatever reservations Harry still has at this point end when Luna proceeds to begin teasing her little pink clit right fucking in front of him. With a growl that starts in his chest and really doesn’t sound all that human, Harry finds himself charging forward. In an instant, he has the small, flexible blonde’s legs pinned back up by her head, and is rapidly feeding her tight, formerly virgin hole his angry, red cock. Her hymen tears in moments, but Harry is barely paying that any mind.
No, instead his attention is on Luna’s face. He watches as her lashes flutter. He watches as her eyes cross. And then he watches as they finally roll up in her head altogether as his cock sinks deeper and deeper into her tight little cunny. She’s still gargling on the vibrators that had been stuffed in Hermione’s pussy all this time too, the little blonde slut.
When he pulls back out, slowly but surely, Luna’s eyes roll forward again. She looks up at him, perhaps a bit more dazed than before, but no less present then she was to begin with. It still leaves her looking like a deer caught in the headlights, like even though she’s the one who fucking offered herself up to him on a silver platter, she still doesn’t fully understand what’s happening now.
Fuck, it’s making him all the harder, to be honest. Harry has no idea what the truth is regarding Luna Lovegood anymore. Whether it’s all an act, or whether she really is that oblivious. All he knows is that when he thrusts in a second time, her eyes go crossed and then roll back in her skull all over again. His tempo rapidly switches from slow to jarringly fast, so fast that he gets to relish the sounds of his lower thighs smacking into her sweaty butt as he keeps her legs high in the air and pressed back towards her back, taking her hard and fast in the mating press that Galatea had taught him.
She’s still fucking sucking on those damn sex toys though, and part of Harry, a dark dangerous part, doesn’t appreciate the split in her focus. Even as he continues to piledrive down into her, he growls and reaches for Luna’s face. Grabbing her by the jaw, he ends up managing to fish the two vibrators out from her mouth so that he can replace them with his tongue.
As he makes out with the thoroughly messed up blonde, Harry finds himself jonesing for more of a reaction from her. Even though he’s got her eyes rolling back in her head, she’s still not made much of a peep, only a few whimpers and moans and mewls here and there. He wants more, he wants a lot more… and he’s pretty sure he knows how to get it.
Even as he’s railing Luna silly and wrestling her tongue into submission with his tongue, Harry slides the hand carrying the two vibrators downwards, towards her equally untouched butt. As he begins to press the spit-slicked toys into her virgin sphincter, Luna’s body jerks and wiggles a little at the strange, unexpected sensation and she subconsciously moves to avoid it. At the same time, her eyes roll forward again to fixate on his, staring up at him rather blankly. Not accusingly, but… searchingly, perhaps?
Normally, just feeling her trying to avoid his probing and seeing her staring at him would have been enough to deter Harry. The old Harry, anyways. The Harry who hadn’t been influenced by Galatea, who hadn’t learned to slake his lust at any given time on the two pets that she’d effectively procured for him… that Harry would have taken Luna’s twitching and squirming as a sign he should stop and not go any further.
This Harry, however, has learned to be more assertive in taking what he wants. Luna finally makes a noise as he pops the first of the two vibrators into her ass, a girlish squeal from the quirky witch that has his cock throbbing and pulsating all the harder in her stuffed twat. That first squeal turns into a small shriek that’s ultimately muffled by Harry’s mouth as he presses in the second vibrator, pushing both of them up into their new home.
As he deflowers Luna’s asshole with sex toys while at the same time deflowering her cunt with his cock, the cute little blonde’s eyes roll back in her head yet again from the sensation. A moment later, and her spasming grows all the more intense as Harry realizes he’s just given her the first of many orgasms on his prick. Is it her first ever? Harry can’t say for sure, but he likes to think it is. He likes to think that this isn’t all just an act, that Luna really is as naïve and oblivious and inexperienced as she seems… because to be honest, it makes the whole situation so much fucking hotter.
He fucks her relentlessly, from that point on. Pistoning in and out of her cunt, slamming home into Luna’s hungry twat again and again as he basks in the vibrations he can feel through the wall separating him from her ass. She might have been a virgin at the start of all of this, but she’s getting a crash course in sex today, that’s for sure. His cock is bottoming out inside of her pussy, even as the toys in her ass buzz away at the highest intensity.
The device to lower them from their max setting is who knows how far away in Tea’s grasp still. Harry half-wonders why the Argoan Alien never joined them. Why it was Luna who showed up instead. He wonders if Galatea has any idea that the toys she stuffed into Hermione are no longer inside of her, that the brunette bookworm is currently basking in the afterglow and actually getting a break while Luna enjoys some of them instead along with his cock.
But he doesn’t spend long dwelling on Tea, not when there’s a cute, quirky little slut beneath him who needs to be put in her fucking place. Harry grits his teeth, when he’s not kissing Luna. He groans loudly as his cock slams home into her cunt again and again. As he smashes down the gate that is her cervix and enters her womb itself, Luna positively SHRIEKS in response, her eyes rolling around in her skull, her tongue sticking rather cutely straight out of her mouth.
Womb-fucking, Harry discovers, is very much Luna’s trigger. The small blonde can’t get enough of his cock plowing into her womb itself, it seems, because that’s the point where she starts cumming and just doesn’t stop. Every thrust into her seems like it elicits another orgasm. Every smashing through her cervix and stretching of her womb around his big fat dick seems to draw out another climax.
Luna is far too small for his size, but she’s also a witch, which means her body is naturally elastic in a way most muggles wouldn’t be. This means Harry can fuck her to his heart’s content without doing any damage… physically, anyways. Mentally is another story, but let’s be honest, Harry is well past the point of return on that front. He can’t help himself; Luna is just too innocent, too inexperienced. It feels so good, wrapping her around his cock and just FUCKING her to kingdom cum.
Of course, in no way is Harry trying to get Luna pregnant. He still has enough presence of mind to not want that for the young girl. She’s not his pet like Hermione. She’s not his slave like Cheetah. And she’s not his lover like Tea. At least, not yet. Some small part of Harry still has enough respect for his quirky friend to not want to make a life-changing decision like that without a so much as by-your-leave.
As such, it’s always his intention to pull out at the end and blast another thick, creamy load of his white, hot cum all over Luna’s body. He’s already imagining ruining her already stained dress even further, just absolutely coating her in streaks of white. It’ll be a perfect way to end this encounter between the two of them, or so Harry thinks.
As he feels his release approaching, he bottoms out inside of Luna’s reshaped cunt and fucked-silly womb one final time, before trying to pull back out. The key word there, however, is ‘trying’. Luna must have felt it. He must have stiffened up or something, and she instinctively knew what was happening. Before Harry can even comprehend what she’s doing, she’s manages to slip her legs free of his grip in an impressive display of flexibility that terminates in her wrapping them around his waist and DRIVING him back inside of her with more strength then he would have expected from the small blonde.
With a loud grunt, Harry surges forward involuntarily, slamming home into Luna’s womb one final time. A triumphant, half-delirious coo comes from the beleaguered blonde beneath him as she basks in the sensation of her womb being filled up with what had to feel like liquid fire. Harry, meanwhile, groans loudly as his cum is milked from him by Luna’s tightening, spasming cunt walls. Having him cum inside of her tips her over the edge into one final explosive orgasm, and Harry feels himself shuddering as he fills her with his seed right then and there.
Harry is… rather shocked and more than a little exhausted as he leans over Luna’s body, his cock STILL being squeezed and milked, despite being drained of every spot. Meanwhile, Luna looks at him, and then past him up at Hermione’s defiled hole where the brunette is still clinging to the tree, and then beams happily.
“Well, father was right about one thing, I suppose. Wearing Sun colors to a wedding really does bring luck~”
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