Witch Weekly 3rd Edition: Hogwarts Sexpress (Patreon)

Hogwarts Sexpress

Featuring: Harry Potter, Bathsheda Babbling

Tags: Hidden Sex, MILF, Teacher

Eighth year was going to be interesting. As I glanced outside my compartment’s window, it felt eerily reminiscent of first year. I sat alone in my compartment, watching as stragglers ran onto the train when the whistle blew.

I spotted the aurors, with their conspicuous red robes, policing the platform.

That might’ve been me in another life, but truth be told, I’d had just about enough of the ministry. If I felt the call of civic duty after a year, I’d consider it.

What I wanted was the Hogwarts I was promised at eleven.

The last whistle blew, the train lurched, and I rocked in my seat as we set off. Friends and families waved at their loved ones, and I couldn’t help but smile a little wistfully at that. I’d decided I’d like a little privacy, at least until I was safely ensconced in the castle. My fame had hit levels so high, Professor Sinestra would be teaching it in astronomy.

I failed to keep my privacy for long as someone unceremoniously barged into my bolt hole.

I wasn’t worth a second glance, as she - who was unmistakably a she - struggled with her trunk. She’d lugged it up onto the shelf above me. I’d made to get up and help, but rather quickly, I’d found my field of vision being overtaken by the most spectacular pair of tits I’d ever had the pleasure of seeing.

They were close enough that I could smell the cream she’d used on her skin.

As the drool was collecting in my mouth, the figure moved away and plonked herself on the bench directly across from me.

I couldn’t help myself as I surveyed the vast and lush lands before me. Her navy blue dress ended just above knees and rode up higher when she sat down. Porcelain white, well-defined calves trailing up to plump thighs that looked more enticing than any bed.

Her dress hid away everything above that, but her hourglass shape was fuel for my imagination.

Then I met my old friends again. The dress was sleeveless, held up by thin spaghetti straps attached to the front that dipped low enough to be scandalous. Her glistening, sweat soaked cleavage jiggled and swayed delightfully as she fanned herself. The wonderful scent of her perspiration mingled with her lotion and wafted my way. My survey took a little break here while my salivary glands worked overtime.

“Eyes up, Potter.” My gaze snapped up. Her sleek, black ended in a neat bob just below her chin. She had an amused smirk on her lips, painted the same dark shade as her nails. Her eyes, however, told a different story. She’d been crying.

A wave of my wand, I cast a cooling charm. “Oh! That’s lovely.” Given the way her nipples now perked up, it was lovely on my end, too.

I wasn’t actually sorry for staring, but I knew my manners. “By way of apology…. Professor?” It was only then that I registered that I had no idea who the voluptuous vixen was.

“Babbling, Bathsheda Babbling. I teach-”

“Ancient runes.” Her name rang a bell. “Hermione’s always been fond of your lessons.”

“At least someone remembers me.” She sighed.

“Trust me, you’re unforgettable.” my damn mouth ran ahead of my brain. But as a blush stole across her cheeks, I wasn’t mad at it.

“Speaking of Ms Granger,” she tried to change the subject, “where is she? Or anyone, for that matter. I’d expect a gaggle of giggling girls would be fawning all over you.”

“She’s determined to put her old prefect badge to use. I’m also quite tired of being fawned over, s’why I’ve hidden myself here.” I explained.

“You shouldn’t take that attention for granted, you know? One day, you’ll wake up and find that no one pays you any anymore.”

My motormouth had worked out before, so I decided to let it run again. “Is that why you’ve been crying?”

She became immediately flustered. “Oh, well yes…. But you don’t want to hear about my problems!”

I shook my head and denied that. “I won’t mind if you don’t.”

She quieted then and stared searchingly. “It’s just….” She began hesitantly. Whatever it was, was clearly troubling her, if that’s all it took to convince her. “My husband and I have hit a rough patch.” I guess I knew what that ring meant now. “I’d wanted to try for children, but he said he couldn’t because of…. recent circumstances.”

“The war.” I stated, painting a broad brush over the topic. She nodded in thanks.

“I thought, since it’s all over now, thanks in no small part to you I might add,” I didn’t react, I’d have to get used to it. “I stayed at Hogwarts last year. He’s muggleborn, so he went into hiding. Under all that scrutiny, we couldn’t communicate at all.”

“Must’ve been hard.” I knew how it felt.

“Not for him, apparently.” She snarled. “Shacked up with some young thing. Got her pregnant, too. I only found out a few weeks back when she showed up at our doorstep bursting.” She picked up steam. “That broke me. When we reunited, I thought we could pick up where we left off and start our own family. He refused. I blamed myself, you know? Maybe I just wasn’t sexy enough.”

“I don’t believe that for one moment.” I was rock hard just being around her. Sex appeal wasn’t the issue.

She pursed her lips, hiding away those luscious things, and stopped her tirade. “You really find me that attractive?” She squirmed in her seat a little, one arm had reached over to the other and was rubbing it just above the elbow - doing marvelous things to her chest.

Words weren’t worth much. I nodded with conviction.

The way her eyebrows twisted, I could tell she felt conflicted. She turned her head away from me and focused instead on the faint reflection in the window. As the scenery changed, so too did her expression. Her eyes were clear when they found mine again.

She rose from the bench. “You overpowered your charm. Move over. I need to get warm.”

I shifted. She’d have to squeeze to fit into the space I’d left, but that was the idea. When the warmth of her body pressed against mine, she felt even softer than she looked. I threw my arm over her shoulders and pulled her in even tighter.

She sighed in bliss. “Mmm. I haven’t been touched in so long.”

“Let’s fix that.” I leaned in and kissed her. She moaned needily into my mouth. She worked her pillowy lips against mine, doing her best to inhale my breath. My tongue sought hers, scrubbing across all of it for that unique taste.

Her manicured nails gently scratched along the line of my jaw until she reached my hair to find grip. Her upraised arm released a fresh bouquet of aroma. I didn’t wait for her inevitable tug to deepen our kiss. My arm slithered down from her shoulder. I caressed her down to the curve of her ass and back up again to the underside of her breast. Her other hand shot up and intertwined our fingers. Eagerly, she put it over her tit. I didn’t hesitate to massage and molest it in equal measure, the hardness of her nipple contrasting wonderfully with the tenderness of her flesh on my palm.

Our knees bumped together as she writhed. With my free hand, I clawed at her leg, I jammed my hand into the crook of her knee, lifted and spread her meaty leg, and sat it over my own, just inches away from the tip of my engorged penis.

I raked my nails down the inside of her thigh. Gooseflesh followed in my wake. Her milky thigh was smoother than silk and softer than clouds.

I reached the edge of her panties, hooked my fingers, and pulled them to the side. I was practically scorched by the wave of heat emanating from her pussy. I dove in.

I cupped her fully. She bucked into me with a guttural moan. I greeted her swollen clit with a light pinch.

My fingers glided over her folds. There wasn’t a strand of hair on her pubis, her outer lips, and even down to the little space between her two fuckholes. A little light stubble telling me how eager she was for a fucking, but with no one to do it.

I pressed down with my fingers, her trembling clit trapped, and massaged her vulva in circular motions. She thrust her hips with each rotation, begging for me to slip them inside her drooling cunt.

I obliged. For minutes on end we petted heavy. My arm was a blur as I fucked her on my digits. I wriggled them, pumped them, scraped them over every inch of her spasming walls. Wet sloshing clashed with wild wails, driving me near deaf. Her heady fragrance was strong enough to stain the surface of this compartment forever.

Her writhing was getting more urgent. Her spasming cunt did its best to push me out, and just when I thought I’d see her cum - a knock at the door slapped us both to sense.

“Anything from the trolley dears?”

Professor Babbling, in a panic, drew her face away, shut her legs and stood up, nearly banging her head on the shelf above us. I glared at the trolley woman behind the shut door. I’ve bought your trolley out near every year and this is how you repay me?

Babbling, having hastily fixed her dress, opens the way out of the compartment. “Excuse me,” she dodged around the old woman, “I need to use the loo.”

I watched as the professor’s protruding ass smacked against the threshold, making it jiggle and sway in her attempt to escape. I stared at the two fingers that were inside her. They’d pruned. I brought them up to my nostrils, took a deep whiff and sucked her sweet flavour into my mouth. She wasn’t getting away from me that easily.

I waited a beat as the trolley woman moved ahead. I turned in the opposite direction, familiar with where the nearest restroom was.

I marched ahead. Nobody else was in the corridor, but even if they were, I wouldn’t have cared. I reached the loo. The door was ajar. I walked in.

Her face was dripping, the tap still running water. She was hunched over the sink, her hands placed on the wide stone counter, held her up. Her ring wasn’t on her finger anymore. It sat abandoned on the countertop.

I zoned in on her reflection. My gaze burned into hers. I unbuttoned my trousers and pulled my cock out. “I’m not stopping.”

“.... Me neither.” She affirmed. “Shut the door.”

My magic responded. A wandless collopurtus slammed it closed.

She bent over and hitched up her dress. I kicked my pants off entirely as I reached for her beautiful, wide ass. I couldn’t help smacking it. She pitched forward and moaned.

I stood between her legs. I used my feet to nudge her ankles. She shuffled sideways and spread wider for me.

My cock was twitching in anticipation.

I sunk my hands into her pliant flesh. I spread her apart. Her wrinkled hole winked at me, while her pulsing cunt released a long strand of viscous grool. I pressed my tip into her drenched entrance.

Her hand clutched around my wrist. So close to the tunnel, and I worried she was about to stop this train. I proved wrong. She pulled my hand to her face, fluttering kisses tickled my palm. I caught her misty eyes in the mirror. “I don’t want them to hear me moan.” I almost came then and there.

I closed my hand around her mouth, pulled my hips back, and speared in.

Back arched, she screeched. My hand just barely muffling her.

Plap! ‘uuungh’ Plap! “You’re tight.” Plap! “mmf.” our pace was brutal from the outset and only amped up.

She rocked hard with every thrust of my hips, soft flesh wobbling hypnotically. I caught her in the mirror. Her eyes were shut tight as she sucked on my fingers. Her hanging tits jiggled with wild abandon, threatening to spill out of the top of her dress, but never did. I growled in dissatisfaction. That wasn’t good enough!

I snatched her by her thigh again. I yanked it up, hooked her knee over my shoulder, and flipped her on to her side. My hand ripped the collar of her dress and tore it and her bra both down.

The straps snapped and her boobs were freed. Her nipples were a light brown, her areolas sat wide across the vast expanse of her flopping breasts. ‘Hnf! Hng! Hrk! I pumped savagely, wanting to see them bounce more.

Her lone leg struggled to keep her standing as I fucked her frantically. I grabbed her other leg and hauled it up over my free shoulder.

She rolled on to her back, her arms raised palms braced against the wall, “Harder, baby” she urged. I leaned in, folded her in half and sucked in one twitching nipple. My tongue twirled and lapped her salty skin. “Harry!” She rasped.

While in the mating press, her dress scrunched up to leave only her midriff covered by a band of ruffled cloth.

It was then I noted something peculiar.

She had markings and symbols painted all over her belly. I eased my pace as I admired the drawings stretching from navel to clit. “Curious?” She asked.

“Very.”

“It’s a runic tattoo.” Her hand stroked it. My hand joined hers. “For fertility.” her legs came up and locked around my waist. I peered deep into her eyes. No hesitation. I guess we were doing this.

I sank hard into her once more. Her head tipped back and her eyes rolled up. My pace grew increasingly manic. I put my hand over the center of the tattoo, right where her womb was and pushed down. She’d been a vise earlier, but now I was thoroughly stuck inside. The walls of her sweltering were smothering me. I felt every ridge and bump as I scraped across them.

‘Hah, hah, Aah!’ nothing was stifling her moans anymore. The fleshy slap of our mashing waists and the squelching of her weeping cunt joined the concert. “Cum in me!” She cried. “Breed me!”

It was impossible to resist. I roared, buried into her as far as I could, surrendered, and flooded her.

All too soon, I pulled out. My chest heaved for air, and my legs burned from exertion. Professor Babbling had fallen totally limp. I watched, mesmerized, as I dragged out of her. Her tattoo was glowing. When I was out with a satisfying ‘plop!’ not a drop of my cum left her pussy.

Yeah, eighth year was definitely going to be interesting.